When rosy morn threw o'er the tide
His youthful beams of glory bright,
When young creation, like a bride,
Sprang to the arms of light,
Warm from her God, Eve stood; her eye
Spoke the pure feelings of her soul--
She look'd, beneath the glowing sky,
The spirit of the whole.
She wist not where to turn--when soon
She saw within an arbour deep,
Hush'd by the lulling breath of noon,
The partner of her joys asleep;
The sunshine 'mid his tresses play'd,
Peace show'd a brow unstain'd by guile--
She rush'd to clasp the dream--but stay'd
To pause o'er him awhile.
She felt strange raptures through her roll,
A cloud a moment dimm'd her eye--
It pass'd--but all her fluttering soul
Came heaving in one sigh:
Their guardian seraph, hovering nigh
Upon his starry spangled road,
Caught woman's first and purest sigh,
And brought it to his God.
Thine be the sigh! his Maker said,
With thy pure wings the meteor fan,
Since thou first heard'st the spotless maid
Pour out her soul to man!
Fair glow'd the youthful seraph bright,
High shouted all the hosts above:
So henceforth through the realms of light,
They call the spirit Love!
