She Was A Phantom Of Delight

  She was a Phantom of delight
  When first she gleamed upon my sight;
  A lovely Apparition, sent
  To be a moment's ornament;
  Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
  Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
  But all things else about her drawn
  From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
  A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
  To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
  I saw her upon nearer view,
  A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
  Her household motions light and free,
  And steps of virgin-liberty;
  A countenance in which did meet
  Sweet records, promises as sweet;
  A Creature not too bright or good
  For human nature's daily food;
  For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
  Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
  And now I see with eye serene
  The very pulse of the machine;
  A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
  A Traveller between life and death;
  The reason firm, the temperate will,
  Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
  A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
  To warn, to comfort, and command;
  And yet a Spirit still, and bright
  With something of angelic light.