The Queen's Vespers

Half kneeling yet, and half reclining,
She held her harp against her knees:
Aloft the ruddy roofs were shining
And sunset touched the trees.
From the gold border gleamed like snow
Her foot: a crown enriched her brow:
Dark gems confined that crimson vest
Close-moulded on her neck and breast.

In silence lay the cloistral court
And shadows of the convent towers:
Well ordered now in stately sort
Those royal halls and bowers.
The choral chaunt had just swept by—
Bright arms lay quivering yet on high;
Thereon the warriors gazed, and then
Glanced lightly at the Queen again.

While from her lip the wild hymn floated
Such grace in those uplifted eyes
And sweet, half absent looks, they noted
That, surely, through the skies
A Spirit, they deemed, flew forward ever
Above that song's perpetual river,
And, smiling from its joyous track
Upon her heavenly face looked back.