AdelineFirst printed in 1830.1Mystery of mysteries,Faintly smiling Adeline,Scarce of earth nor all divine,Nor unhappy, nor at rest,But beyond expression fairWith thy floating flaxen hair;Thy rose-lips and full blue eyesTake the heart from out my breast.Wherefore those dim looks of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?2Whence that aery bloom of thine,Like a lily which the sunLooks thro’ in his sad decline,And a rose-bush leans upon,Thou that faintly smilest still,As a Naïad in a well,Looking at the set of day,Or a phantom two hours oldOf a maiden passed away,Ere the placid lips be cold?Wherefore those faint smiles of thine,Spiritual Adeline?3What hope or fear or joy is thine?Who talketh with thee, Adeline?For sure thou art not all alone:Do beating hearts of salient springsKeep measure with thine own?Hast thou heard the butterfliesWhat they say betwixt their wings?Or in stillest eveningsWith what voice the violet woosTo his heart the silver dews?Or when little airs arise,How the merry bluebell rings[1]To the mosses underneath?Hast thou look’d upon the breathOf the lilies at sunrise?Wherefore that faint smile of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?4Some honey-converse feeds thy mind,Some spirit of a crimson roseIn love with thee forgets to closeHis curtains, wasting odorous sighsAll night long on darkness blind.What aileth thee? whom waitest thouWith thy soften’d, shadow’d brow,And those dew-lit eyes of thine,[2]Thou faint smiler, Adeline?5Lovest thou the doleful windWhen thou gazest at the skies?Doth the low-tongued Orient[3]Wander from the side of[4]the morn,Dripping with Sabæan spiceOn thy pillow, lowly bentWith melodious airs lovelorn,Breathing Light against thy face,While his locks a-dropping[5]twinedRound thy neck in subtle ringMake acarcanet of rays,[6]And ye talk together still,In the language wherewith SpringLetters cowslips on the hill?Hence that look and smile of thine,Spiritual Adeline.[1]This conceit seems to have been borrowed from Shelley,Sensitive Plant, i.:—And the hyacinth, purple and white and blue,Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anewOf music.[2]Cf.Collins,Ode to Pity, “andeyes of dewy light”.[3]What “the low-tongued Orient” may mean I cannot explain.[4]1830 and all editions till 1853. O’.[5]1863. A-drooping.[6]A carcanet is a necklace, diminutive from old French “Carcan”. Cf.Comedy of Errors, in., i, “To see the making of her Carcanet”.
First printed in 1830.
1
Mystery of mysteries,Faintly smiling Adeline,Scarce of earth nor all divine,Nor unhappy, nor at rest,But beyond expression fairWith thy floating flaxen hair;Thy rose-lips and full blue eyesTake the heart from out my breast.Wherefore those dim looks of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?
2
Whence that aery bloom of thine,Like a lily which the sunLooks thro’ in his sad decline,And a rose-bush leans upon,Thou that faintly smilest still,As a Naïad in a well,Looking at the set of day,Or a phantom two hours oldOf a maiden passed away,Ere the placid lips be cold?Wherefore those faint smiles of thine,Spiritual Adeline?
3
What hope or fear or joy is thine?Who talketh with thee, Adeline?For sure thou art not all alone:Do beating hearts of salient springsKeep measure with thine own?Hast thou heard the butterfliesWhat they say betwixt their wings?Or in stillest eveningsWith what voice the violet woosTo his heart the silver dews?Or when little airs arise,How the merry bluebell rings[1]To the mosses underneath?Hast thou look’d upon the breathOf the lilies at sunrise?Wherefore that faint smile of thine,Shadowy, dreaming Adeline?
4
Some honey-converse feeds thy mind,Some spirit of a crimson roseIn love with thee forgets to closeHis curtains, wasting odorous sighsAll night long on darkness blind.What aileth thee? whom waitest thouWith thy soften’d, shadow’d brow,And those dew-lit eyes of thine,[2]Thou faint smiler, Adeline?
5
Lovest thou the doleful windWhen thou gazest at the skies?Doth the low-tongued Orient[3]Wander from the side of[4]the morn,Dripping with Sabæan spiceOn thy pillow, lowly bentWith melodious airs lovelorn,Breathing Light against thy face,While his locks a-dropping[5]twinedRound thy neck in subtle ringMake acarcanet of rays,[6]And ye talk together still,In the language wherewith SpringLetters cowslips on the hill?Hence that look and smile of thine,Spiritual Adeline.
[1]This conceit seems to have been borrowed from Shelley,Sensitive Plant, i.:—And the hyacinth, purple and white and blue,Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anewOf music.
[2]Cf.Collins,Ode to Pity, “andeyes of dewy light”.
[3]What “the low-tongued Orient” may mean I cannot explain.
[4]1830 and all editions till 1853. O’.
[5]1863. A-drooping.
[6]A carcanet is a necklace, diminutive from old French “Carcan”. Cf.Comedy of Errors, in., i, “To see the making of her Carcanet”.