THE STILL TRYST.

How love transcends our mortal sphere,

And sees again the spirit-world,

Forgot so daily. Thou art here;—

I know thee, sweet — though fair impearled

Thy face in a far atmosphere

To others,— hearing in the sea

My love a-crying up to thee.

Thou by the surf, I on the lake:—

Yet in the real world we meet;

And O, for thy endearéd sake,

Love, all I am is at thy feet.

With thy life let me breathing take,

And through all nature do thou see

My love a-crying up to thee.

And with thine eyes shall I pursue

Yon shower-veils from the sunset flying,

Blown mid clouds white and lurid-blue

That crowd the rainbow's arch, defying

Him who in red death shoots them through.

Look with me; in this pageant see

My love all glowing up to thee.

See what I see, hear what I hear,

I too am with thee by the wave —

One all the day, the hour, the year:

Our trust of love shall be so brave,

We shall deny that death is here

Or any power in the grave.

I know thee; thou canst love like this;

Be ours the endless spirit-kiss.

Dusk falls. How purely shines that star,

Concealed while day was in the sky;

Life, love and thou not mortal are,

Though atheist noon your world deny.

Dusk falls:— though in the west a bar

Of bloom on evening's pure cheek be;

In beauty thy love cries to me.