dots-menu
×

Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  31 Rosalie

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By WashingtonAllston

31 Rosalie

“O POUR upon my soul again

That sad, unearthly strain,

That seems from other worlds to plain;

Thus falling, falling from afar,

As if some melancholy star

Had mingled with her light her sighs,

And dropped them from the skies!

“No,—never came from aught below

This melody of woe,

That makes my heart to overflow,

As from a thousand gushing springs

Unknown before; that with it brings

This nameless light,—if light it be,—

That veils the world I see.

“For all I see around me wears

The hue of other spheres;

And something blent of smiles and tears

Comes from the very air I breathe.

O, nothing, sure, the stars beneath

Can mould a sadness like to this,—

So like angelic bliss.”

So, at that dreamy hour of day,

When the last lingering ray

Stops on the highest cloud to play,—

So thought the gentle Rosalie,

As on her maiden reverie

First fell the strain of him who stole

In music to her soul.