Poems (Griffith)/To ——— ———
To ——— ———
IDO not love thee, yet why does thy calm Sweet smile forever haunt my dreams, and why Do thy dark eyes beam gloriously on mine Like bright stars from the midnight heaven of sleep No tone of sweetest music ever falls Upon my ear at gentle eve but breathes The music of thy voice; no silver wave E'er murmurs at my feet but seems to glass Thy face and form; no lovely blossom springs Beside my lonely pathway but exhales The perfume of thy breath.
When thou art near, My thrilling spirit seems a universe Of happiness and beauty. Blessed dreams Of airy loveliness float through my soul; A chastened splendor rests upon my life, As a soft pillar of the moonlight rests Upon the deep; and a soft glory comes From thy sweet presence o'er my heart, to charm My senses into worship.
On thy brow I read the might of lofty intellect, And I have listened with a panting heart To thy high words of music and of pride, And bowed my soul in homage to thy power, Thou glorious son of genius. Every star That trembles in the blue empyrean, seems A torch to light thy spirit's sweeping track Through Heaven's serene abyss; and holy night Seems but a stole of solemn hue thrown round The radiance of thy soul.
Thou art afar,I know not where, but still the arches lone Of Memory's sacred temple are illumed By the pure, blessed brilliancy they caught From thy dear presence, and they echo yet Thy voice's spirit-music, till the air Grows tremulous with joy. The wanderers o'er The bright realms of the rosy Hesperus, Ne'er revelled in an atmosphere of bliss Like that which thrills around me with the spell Of thy remembered cadences.
And yet I love thee not. I only ask to look With thee upon the heavens that roll serene And beautiful above; to sit and gaze On the same stars thou gazest on, and send My soul to thine when slumber's midnight dews Have fallen on thy blue-veined lids, and hushed Thy heart to rest. Oh I would love to flit, The spirit of the zephyr, through thy dreams, Waking to beauty and to melodyThy fancy's wild and leaping waves; to glide, A star-beam, through thy softly-shadowed soul, Flinging a glory o'er thy sleeping world; To murmur like a voice from out the air Within thy dreaming ear, and blend my thoughts With thy own thoughts of flame.
Then thou wouldst feel My kisses on thy lip, and my young heart Pressed to thy throbbing bosom as I watched O'er thy unguarded hours, but yet no spell, Flung on thy sweetly-troubled sleep, should haunt Thy waking life with its remembered charm. Ha! what wild power is this that fills my soul, Holding thought, feeling, ay, my very life, In its resistless thrall? 'Tis strangely sweet, Yet there is madness in its influence, And with a trembling soul and frame I bow To its mysterious mastery. Oh, unchain Thy victim, strong and beauteous spirit, take Thy magic fetter from my soul; unbind My wing and leave me free, as I have been, To wander with the birds, the waves, the winds, The clouds, the stars, where'er I list, o'er earth And through the blue and boundless cope of Heaven.
Louisville, Ky, January 6, 1852.