She Was a Phantom of Delight

She was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleamed upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament;Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her drawnFrom May-time and the cheerful Dawn;A dancing Shape, an Image gay,To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.

I saw her upon nearer view,A Spirit, yet a Woman too!Her household motions light and free,And steps of virgin liberty;A countenance in which did meetSweet records, promises as sweet;A Creature not too bright or goodFor human nature's daily food;For transient sorrows, simple wiles,Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye sereneThe very pulse of the machine;A Being breathing thoughtful breath,A Traveller betwixt life and death;The reason firm, the temperate will,Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill,A perfect Woman, nobly planned,To warn, to comfort, and command;And yet a Spirit still, and brightWith something of an angel light.