POETRY.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 103, 29 September 1874, Page 3

POETRY.

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.

She sleeps, and roses round her chamber, With bright red mouths and arms of amber,

Peeling for that red mouth of hers— The sunshine breathless bends above her, Toys wiiii her ringlets like a lover, Thrilling and trembling if she stirs. The veil she wears is woven lightly, And thro' :' ts folds her iace burns brightly, Like to a lamp through some soft screen— Her breath just thrills the air around her, And makes the silentness profounder; E'en so she sleeps, unheard, unseen. Who comes with footsteps soft to wake her? What sweet, what smiling slumber-breaker Trips o'er the leaves in these green ways ? Whose strange face is the daylight sunning ? What white hand holds with tender cunning The clue to this enchanted maze ? It is her prince, her lord, her stranger, Who comes to her through doom and danger, As ancient prophecies foretold ; The fair, the fortunate, the fated, He comes, he creeps with breath abated, And holds the key of magic gold. The door swings open, he beholds her Where one bright blush of rose enfolds her— Of rosy bloom, of gleaming rays; He falters at the door, then blushing He enters, voice and footfall hushing, In prayerful, passionate amaze. A moment pale as death he lingers— Then lifts the veil with trembling fingers, And swoons her half-closed eyes to see ! ITe stoops, but ere his kiss is taken She thrills, she trembles to awaken— He eyes are opened quietly !

Oh. joy ? the words of love are spoken, The enchantment of the play is broken, 0 learn after gleam the glory breaks, The mansion gleams through every chamber, The birds sing loud, the roses clamber, And all Love's sleeping world awakes !