THE FIRST LETTER.
Not since the breeze that took
Thy soul by kind surprise, and turning o'er
Its pages on a sudden, let me look
Upon my name ere yet thou wast aware
(Keep thou that leaf turned ever down, that there
The book may open soonest!) have I known
A moment like to this;
Thy soul by kind surprise, and turning o'er
Its pages on a sudden, let me look
Upon my name ere yet thou wast aware
(Keep thou that leaf turned ever down, that there
The book may open soonest!) have I known
A moment like to this;
I keep thy seal
Unbroken, as it were thy hand in mine;
I hold it clasped in silence, till I feel
A warmth hath reached my spirit; then I ope
These pages, confident as one with Hope
In certain league; I need but touch this spring
That now I play with to and fro, to bring
Thy Presence on the stillness; these enclose
Thy spirit shut within them. Even now
Thy soul's breath is upon them—as a Rose
Fresh plucked and dewy with the morning, thou
Hast sent me of thine inner life that glows
In sweetness; fain am I, yet know not how,
To send thee thus each fancy as it blows;
Unbroken, as it were thy hand in mine;
I hold it clasped in silence, till I feel
A warmth hath reached my spirit; then I ope
These pages, confident as one with Hope
In certain league; I need but touch this spring
That now I play with to and fro, to bring
Thy Presence on the stillness; these enclose
Thy spirit shut within them. Even now
Thy soul's breath is upon them—as a Rose
Fresh plucked and dewy with the morning, thou
Hast sent me of thine inner life that glows
In sweetness; fain am I, yet know not how,
To send thee thus each fancy as it blows;
