Poems (Welby)/The Sleeping Maiden

by Amelia Welby

THE SLEEPING MAIDEN.

Bright as the spell of loveliness,
 Cast round thee, maiden, here,
Are the sweet dreams, that angels now
 Are whispering in thy ear;
Yes, very bright and very sweet
 Those dreamings all must be,
Or else they would not flit around
 A creature fair as thee.

O! beautiful indeed thou art
 As some pure spirit blest,
With thy gold tresses gleaming soft,
 Like sunbeams, o'er thy breast;
And thy rose-tinted cheek, now bright
 As the first blush of day,
Now faint as if a zephyr's sigh
 Could brush its bloom away—

And thy bright glances, gathered all
 Beneath each snowy lid,
That, silken-fringed, rests lightly o'er
 The beauty they have hid,
Giving unto thy lovely face
 A pensive twilight ray,
Like that, which tints the summer sky
 When sunbeams fade away.

Sweetly from thy deep dreaming breast,
 Thy thoughts are gushing now,
Like perfume up to Him, who threw
 Such beauty o'er thy brow;
Thoughts, lovelier, holier far than those
 That haunt thy waking hours,
And fresh as dew-drops on the leaves
 Of odor-breathing flowers.

I would that thou should'st ever be
 Thus free from weary care,
That thy young brow its holy calm
 On earth may ever wear,
But, as such perfect happiness
 To mortals is not given,
I'd have thee dream thy life away,
 And only wake in heaven.