A Vision.

    As hard at work I trimmed the midnight lamp,
        Yfilling of mine head with classic lore,
    Mine hands firm clasped upon my temples damp,
        Methought I heard a tapping at the door;
    'Come in,' I cried, with most unearthly rore,
        Fearing a horrid Dun or Don to see,
    Or Tomkins, that unmitigated bore,
        Whom I love not, but who alas! loves me,
    And cometh oft unbid and drinketh of my tea.

    'Come in,' I rored; when suddenly there rose
        A magick form before my dazzled eyes:
    'Or do I wake,' I asked myself 'or doze'?
        Or hath an angel come in mortal guise'?
    So wondered I; but nothing mote surmise;
        Only I gazed upon that lovely face,
    In reverence yblent with mute surprise:
        Sure never yet was seen such wondrous grace,
    Since Adam first began to run his earthlie race.

    Her hands were folded on her bosom meek;
        Her sweet blue eyes were lifted t'ward the skie;
    Her lips were parted, yet she did not speak;
        Only at times she sighed, or seemed to sigh:
    In all her 'haviour was there nought of shy;
        Yet well I wis no Son of Earth would dare,
    To look with love upon that lofty eye;
        For in her beauty there was somewhat rare,
    A something that repell'd an ordinary stare.

    Then did she straight a snowycloth disclose
        Of samite, which she placed upon a chair:
    Then, smiling like a freshly-budding rose,
        She gazed upon me with a witching air,
    As mote a Cynic anchorite ensnare.
        Eftsoons, as though her thoughts she could not smother,
    She hasted thus her mission to declare: -
        'Please, these is your clean things I've brought instead of brother,
    'And if you'll pay the bill you'll much oblige my mother.'

    (1860).