Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Francis HowardWilliams

931 Electra

MY Love too stately is to be but fair,

Too fair she is for naught but stateliness;

She bids me Nay, and yet a silent Yes

Dwells in the dusk her shadowy eyelids wear.

My Love’s step makes a music in the air,

Touching the sense with a divine caress,

And all the rapture of the dawn doth bless

The light that leaps to life across her hair.

Her mouth is just the love-couch for a song,

And mid the fragrance of its riven flowers

Low laughter breaks and trembles close to tears

Mingled of mirth and melody, as a throng

Of bird notes wakes to joy the drowsy hours

And weaves delight through all the grieving years.