A LADY'S CHAMBER.
The moon shines dim in the open air,
And not a moonbeam enters here.
Vastness which grows, but grows to harmonize,
All musical in its immensities;
Rich marbles, richer painting, shrines where But they without its light can see
flame
The lamps of gold, and haughty dome which Carved with figures strange and sweet,
vies
All made out of the carver's brain,
The chamber carved so curiously,
In air with earth's chief structures, though For a lady's chamber meet:
The lamp with twofold silver chain
Sits on the firm-set ground, and this the cloud Is fastened to an angel's feet. must claim.
The silver lamp burns dead and dim;
But Christabel the lamp will trim.
She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright,
And left it swinging to and fro,
While Geraldine, in wretched plight,
Sank down upon the floor below.