The Invocation

Oh! art thou still on earth, my love?
My only love!
Or smiling in a brighter home,
Far, far above?

Oh! is thy sweet voice fled, my love?
Thy light step gone?
And art thou not, in earth or heaven,
Still, still my own?

I see thee with thy gleaming hair,
In midnight dreams!
But cold, and clear, and spirit-like,
Thy soft eye seems.

Peace in thy saddest hour, my love!
Dwelt on thy brow;
But something mournfully divine
There shineth now!

And silent ever is thy lip,
And pale thy cheek;--
Oh! art thou earth’s, or art thou heaven’s?
Speak to me, speak!