The Dreaming Girl

She floats upon a sea of mist,
In fancy's boat of amethyst!
A dreaming girl, with her fair cheek
Supported by a snow-white arm,
In the calm joy of innocence,
Subdued by some unearthly charm.
The clusters of her dusky hair
Are floating on her bosom fair,
Like early darkness stealing o'er
The amber tints that daylight gave,
Or, like the shadow of a cloud
Upon a fainting summer-wave.
Is it a spirit of joy or pain
Sails on the river of her brain?
For, lo! the crimson on her cheek
Faints and glows like a dying flame;
Her heart is beating loud and quick—
Is not love that spirit's name?
Up-waking from her blissful sleep,
She starts with fear too wild to weep;
Through the trailing honeysuckle,
All night breathing odorous sighs,
Which her lattice dimly curtains,
The morn peeps in with his bright eyes.
Perfume loved when it is vanish'd,
Pleasure hardly felt ere banish'd,
Is the happy maiden's vision,
That doth on her memory gleam,
And her heart leaps up with gladness—
That bliss was nothing but a dream!