TO ——

By Walter Richard Cassels

When the stars are up and keeping

Holy vigils in the skies,

Whilst Night's train is passing slowly,

Footsteps hush'd, and voices lowly,

And on earth sweet dreams are steeping

Slumbering souls in Paradise,

In my heart there comes a vision,

Angel-like from its elysian,

Bent upon some blessed mission,

And its form resembleth thee

In thy grace and purity.

I with trancëd rapture gazing,

Scan each lineament divine,

Trace again thy pensive sweetness,

Beauty's soul, and love's completeness,

Heart and hands devoutly raising

Like a pilgrim at Love's shrine,

Evermore within me feeling

Like a charm thy beauty stealing,

Hushing pain, and sorrow healing,

And I pray to dream for ever

Gazing thus, and waking never;

For the morn comes, and the Real

Once again resumes its sway,

Scattereth these radiant fancies,

Cloudeth o'er thy gentle glances,

And still seeking my Ideal

Through this life I take my way,

Weary, heart-sick, longing, sighing,

Praying much, yet no replying,

Phantom Hope before me flying

Leading ever back to thee,

To behold thee in thy beauty,

Feel that love is only duty,

Meritless, save that so dying

Gain I Love's eternity.