David Gray (1838–1861)

COME, light-foot Lady! from thy vaporous hall,

And, with a silver-swim into the air,

Shine down the starry cressets one and all

From Pleiades to golden Jupiter!

I see a growing tip of silver peep

Above the full-fed cloud, and lo! with motion

Of queenly stateliness, and smooth as sleep,

She glides into the blue for my devotion.

O sovran Beauty! standing here alone

Under the insufferable infinite,

I worship with dazed eyes and feeble moan

Thy lucid persecution of delight.

Come, cloudy dimness! Dip, fair dream, again!

O God! I cannot gaze, for utter pain.