The Phantom-Song

IN museful hours, when thoughts of grace divine
Roll wave-like up the stormless strand of dreams;--
When that which is grows vague as that which seems,--
I mark, far-off, a radiant shade incline
From heaven to earth,--whose face of marvellous shine,
(Half veiled in mystic beauty), softly beams
With delicate lustres, and elusive gleams,
Caught from some viewless Eden--hyaline:--
Ethereal, as the wavering hues that start
From chorded rainbows;--lingering scarce so long
As the last sun-ray flashed in twilight's eye,
I hail this phantom of a perfect song;--
And I, some day, shall pass the phantom by,--
To feel the embodied music next my heart!