The Coming.
A silken rustle on tho tufted stair, A pause, a gentle footstep's muffled fall, "Waking its elfin echoes in tho hall, A waft of violets, and I am ware Of her within the door, her russet hair Framing a billowy nimbus, like a hazo About her face. She seems standing at gaze, A newly bodied spirit of the air. Through the light music of her talk, a strain Of subtle melody runs, like the theme For a sweet song whose rythmics jet un•Sleep Kcr heart. Weave, weave, oh, unwrought Bkoiu, Into the chorded music of love b dream, And let those unboru harmonics find tOD3UtJ ' KiWABD WUMW, JiK.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD18880331.2.36.15
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 7484, 31 March 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)
Word Count
110The Coming. Evening Star, Issue 7484, 31 March 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)
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