Poems (Kimball)/The Morning Chamber
THE MORNING CHAMBER.
I.
THIS flower-like chamber, delicately walled, Of softest tints, low ceilèd, wide and fair, Where pensive meditations seem installed Like cloistered nuns long-motionless in prayer; This lovely chamber, looking south and east Across green seas of rippling foliage dense,Whose waiting windows catch the first and least Soft glimmer from that heavenly chamber whence The sun rejoicing cometh; this sweet room, While folded yet in slumbers incomplete The whole fair house beside lies wrapt in gloom; This morning chamber, high above the street,Day's silent glory floods and overflows With golden calm that crowns the night's repose.
II.
High noon! and fuller floods of sunshine pour Into this shining chamber till it seems— The very hidden rafters, secret beams—To swim in splendor! I but cross the floor And I forget 't is Winter, keen as clear. To the swift eyes of mine imagining Wide stand the windows, and the breath of Spring, Sweet courier of the violets, is here. I half resolve to hie me out and see How like a tiny army they possess The earth—the violets, with their loveliness, When, of a sudden, breaks my reverie!But the warm flood fills all the chamber yet, And ere it ebbs I will again forget!
III.
Fair as the peace that like a river flows, Across the room the cloudless moonlight streams; Recess and corner dusk its hallowing beams Suffuse with mist-like glimmer of repose. So hushed this chamber, and so rapt this tide Of visible calm, that blessed visions rise Of the Great City of Peace beyond the skies, Of crystal waters that perpetual glide From out the Throne, swift light descending light Forever and forever, with a sound Of inconceivable music music-drowned In rain of benediction from the might And majesty of One enthroned above,—The Light of Light, whose Name of Names is Love!