MOONLIGHT.
37
Through the soft, silvery mists that float around,
To follow them upon their long
And shining trail of glory.
To follow them upon their long
And shining trail of glory.
'Tis a strange
But pure and blessed spirit, for each thought
It wakes is pure and blessed. Every dream
It brings is soft, and deep, and beautiful
As 'twere an Eden vision. And, oh, see!
A pale, unearthly light is in the air,
Chastening the shadows that dance fitfully
Along the silent walls; and now I feel
My cheek and brow are hallowed by its pure
And radiant baptism.
But pure and blessed spirit, for each thought
It wakes is pure and blessed. Every dream
It brings is soft, and deep, and beautiful
As 'twere an Eden vision. And, oh, see!
A pale, unearthly light is in the air,
Chastening the shadows that dance fitfully
Along the silent walls; and now I feel
My cheek and brow are hallowed by its pure
And radiant baptism.
Ah, it is the sweet
Soft spirit of the Moonlight. 'Tis the gleam
Of yonder "Queen of mysteries," wandering forth
Like a pale nun in heaven. Lone-musing here
Amid the shadows of my curtained room,
I saw it not, but yet I felt its spell
Soft spirit of the Moonlight. 'Tis the gleam
Of yonder "Queen of mysteries," wandering forth
Like a pale nun in heaven. Lone-musing here
Amid the shadows of my curtained room,
I saw it not, but yet I felt its spell
