Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Adeline
For other versions of this work, see Adeline (Tennyson).
ADELINE.
I.Mystery of mysteries,Faintly-smiling Adeline,Scarce of earth nor all divine,Nor unhappy, nor at rest;But beyond expression fair,With thy floating flaxen hair,Thy roselips and full blue eyesTake the heart from out my breast;Wherefore those dim looks of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?
Whence that aery bloom of thine,Like a lily which the sunLooks through in his sad decline,And a rosebush leans upon,Thou that faintly smilest still,As a Naiad in a well,Looking at the set of day,Or a phantom two hours oldOf a maiden past away,Ere the placid lips be cold?Wherefore those faint smiles of thine,Spiritual Adeline?
What hope or fear or joy is thine?Who talketh with thee, Adeline?For sure thou art not all alone.Do beating hearts of salient springsKeep measure with thine own?Hast thou heard the butterfliesWhat they say betwixt their wings?Or in stillest evenings
With what voice the violet woosTo his heart the silver dews?Or when little airs arise,How the merry bluebell ringsTo the mosses underneath?Hast thou looked upon the breathOf the lilies at sunrise?Wherefore that faint smile of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?
Some honey-converse feeds thy mind,Some spirit of a crimson roseIn love with thee forgets to closeHis curtains, wasting odorous sighsAll night long on darkness blind.What aileth thee? whom waitest thouWith thy softened, shadowed brow,And those dewlit eyes of thine,Thou faintsmiler, Adeline?
Lovest thou the doleful windWhen thou gazest at the skies?Doth the lowtongued OrientWander from the side o' the mornDripping with Sabæan spiceOn thy pillow, lowly bentWith melodious airs lovelorn,Breathing Light against thy face,While his locks a-dropping twinedRound thy neck in subtle ring,Make a carcanet of rays,And ye talk together still,In the language wherewith springLetters cowslips on the hill?Hence that look and smile of thine,Spiritual Adeline.