And her burning seraph eyes

Now no longer keep aloof.

Here the ancient mystery

Holds its hands out day by day,

Takes a chair and croons with me

By my cabin built of clay.

When the dusky shadow flits,

By the chimney nook I see

Where the old enchanter sits,

Smiles, and waves, and beckons me.

THE GREAT BREATH

Its edges foamed with amethyst and rose,

Withers once more the old blue flower of day:

There where the ether like a diamond glows

Its petals fade away.

A shadowy tumult stirs the dusky air;

Sparkle the delicate dews, the distant snows;

The great deep thrills for through it everywhere

The breath of beauty blows.

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