With gloomy thoughts and thronging dreams oppressed, I sank upon the 'violet velvet chair, Which she shall press, ah, never, nevermore!' And gazed, I know not why, upon the cross, On which the Dove was resting its soft wings, Glowing and rosy in the morn's warm light. I cannot tell how long I dreaming lay, When (as from some old picture, shadowy forms Loom from a distant background as we gaze, So bright they gleam, so soft they melt away, We scarcely know whether 'tis fancy's play Or artist's skill that wins them to the day) There grew a band of angels on my sight, Wreathing in love around the slighted cross. One swung a censer, hung with bell-like flowers, Whence tones and perfumes mingling charmed the air; Thick clouds of incense veiled their shadowy forms, Yet could I see their wings of rainbow light, The wavings of their white arms, soft and bright. Then she who swung the censer nearer drew-- The perfumed tones were silent--lowly bent (The long curls pouring gold adown the wings), She knelt in prayer before the crucifix. Her eyes were deep as midnight's mystic stars, Freighted with love they trembling gazed above, As pleading for some mortal's bitter pain: When answered--soft untwined the clasping hands, The bright wings furled--my heart stood still to hear 'The footfalls tinkle on the tufted floor'-- The eyes met mine--O God! my lost Lenore! Too deeply awed to clasp her to my heart, I knelt and gasped--'Lenore! my lost Lenore! Is there a home for Love beyond the skies? In pity answer!--shall we meet again?' Her eyes in rapture floated; solemn, calm, Then softest music from her lips of balm Fell, as she joined the angels in the air! Her words forever charmed away despair! 'Above all pain, We meet again! 'Kneel and worship humbly Round the slighted cross! Death is only seeming-- Love is never loss! In the hour of sorrow Calmly look above! Trust the Holy Victim-- Heaven is in His love! 'Above all pain, We meet again! 'Never heed the Raven-- Doubt was born in hell! How can heathen Pallas Faith of Christian tell? With the faith of angels, Led by Holy Dove, Kneel and pray before Him-- Heaven is in His love! 'Above all pain, We meet again!' Then clouds of incense veiled the floating forms; I only saw the gleams of starry wings, The flash from lustrous eyes, the glittering hair, As chanting still the _Sanctus_ of the skies, Clear o'er the _Misereres_ of earth's graves, Enveloped in the mist of perfumed haze, In music's spell they faded from my gaze. Gone--gone the vision! from my sight it bore My lost, my found, my ever loved Lenore!