He came—a vision whose bewildering eyes Seemed light ineffable in midnight skies— While plumes of waving frost-work, dashed with flakes Of golden sunbeams, glittered ’mid the folds Of woven radiance floating round his form, Snow-flake and fire-drop wreathing into life, His gorgeous pinion shadowed o’er his Bride, His breath upon her cheek—his lightning glance Stole through the visions of her dreaming soul, As when the passion of the dying sun Glows o’er the bosom of a sleeping cloud, Till love’s wild worship wakes returning flame, And each in burning blushes dies away! As a fair volume, and a golden lyre, Wreathed by the tendrils of an opening rose, Her Mind, and Soul, and fresh expanding Heart, Lay bright before his spirit-searching ken, As one by one he softly laid aside The crimson petals of that folded heart, To drink the honied fragrance of its love, The rose-bud thrilled and trembled into bloom, Its breeze his sigh—its sun his burning glance— Its dew-drop life his kisses wild and warm. He lingered o’er the pure, unsullied leaves Of Mind’s mysterious volume, and there came, Where’er he breathed upon the virgin page, Bright gems of glowing fancy, and deep thought, As magic characters come stealing forth In loveliness before the breath of flame! His being brightened with a God-like smile, As, closely blended with each pictured thought, _His_ image, flashing into glorious life, Smiled back upon him from the glowing page So truthfully—then with the soft excess Of dreamy rapture ’wildered, fainting bowed, And blessed the sweet love-mirror, silently. Her soul in beauty, an Æolian lyre, Gleamed forth before him, where the voice of Song Slept like its spirit in a singing shell. His light caressing pinion swept its chords, And Joy’s bird-carol—Hope’s aerial tone— Pride’s sounding anthem—and the pæan wild Of young Ambition rolled in glory forth. He breathed upon it—and anon there swelled (As tears will gush from rapture-laden hearts) Her pure religion’s diapason deep;— Sweet under-tones of dreamy melancholy— And chords of feeling that erewhile had slept In voiceless music, and o’er all the theme An ever-changing, ever-sounding tone, Was deep, immaculate, immortal _Love_! THE SPIRIT-BRIDAL.