Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

THE ATTEMPT
127
Golden visions bore my soul
Unto tlie olden time,
The purple mist of evening stole
Bound a dreamy Eastern clime;
To the charmed woods and haunted streams,
When earth was all enchanted ground,
And hearts, by a magic power were bound,
My thoughts flew back on those bright dreams,
Those fairy dreams of her who slept,
While a hundred years o’er her tranced soul swept.
Guided by his happy fate
Unto the enchanted gate,
Writh resistless power,
Doth the “ young deliv’rer ” wait
At the starlit hour;
Slowly are its leaves unclosing
Underneath the spell-bound night,
The soft fairy haunt disclosing
In a dreamy hush reposing,
To his wondering sight;
Xo low wind the still leaf waketh,
Nor the charmed silence breaketh,
In that garden fair,
Save the destined path revealing,
Elute-like music ever stealing
On the quiet air.
Ever goeth it before him,
Onward ’neath the mulberry trees,
With their dark leaves bending o’er him,
Stirred not by a breeze.