170 SALMON P. CHASE. [1830-40. THE SISTERS.* It was an eve of summer. The bright sun With all his flood of glory, like a king With pomp of unfurled banners, had gone down. A single cloud, in which all rays that light The diamond, opal, and the chrysolite. Met in their mingled brightness, hung above The place of his departure. Over that Rose pile on pile of gorgeous clouds, a wall With tower and battlement, uplifted high, — Grandly magnificent, as if to mock The show of glory earth sometimes puts on. The zephyrs were abroad among thellowers, Filling the air with fragran(;e, while around. From silver rills, and from the breezy trees, And from earth's thousand founts of har- mony, Came gushes of sweet sound. On such an eve, I saw, upon the bank of a small stream. Whose waters glowed with the rich, golden light, That, like a mantle wrought by angel hands. Covered the world with beauty, two, who seemed Rather the habitants of some pure star. Than dwellers of this earth. They were both young And lovely, but unlike ; as two sweet flowers Are sometimes seen, both exquisitely fair, Though clothed with different hues. The one went by With a light, fawn-like step, that scarcely crushed The springing flower beneath it. Life had been To her a poet's dream, where all things bright And beautiful concentered, like the rays That, mingling, form the sunbeam ; and the earth
- Inscribed to E. G. W. and C. G. W.
Was lovely still, as in the olden time, When, at this hour, celestial spirits came To admire her virgin beauties, and adore The great Creator, manifested best By works which he hath wrought. Her countenance Was radiant with joy, though shaded oft By her dark tresses, as the wanton breeze Played sportively among her locks of jet. She was not very beautiful ; and yet There was that in her dark, bright, joyous eyes, And in the expression of her speaking face. Where, 'mid the graces, dwelt perpetual smiles, As sunshine dwells upon the summer wave, Changing forever, yet forever bright — With the sweet frankness of confiding youth. And the pure light that evermore pours out From the mind's fountain — that demanded more Than the cold name of beauty, which may be The attribute of beings whom no ray Of intellect illumines, and no charm Of loveliness invests. The other's step Was not so buoyant, and her eye had less Of mirth and gladness in it, and her cheek Was something paler ; but when gentle airs Parted the tresses that hung o'er her brow, It was as when light suddenly breaks forth From rifted clouds in April. She was one For whom a life were a small sacrifice, Aye, to be deemed as nothing ! Pensive grace Was in her every motion, and her look Had something sacred in it that declared How pure the spirit in that form enshrined. Like light that dwelleth in the diamond gem. Thou lovely one ! may life still be for thee A peaceful voyage o'er a summer sea, By gentle gales attended ; and at length, Purified wholly from the primal laint,
