At Her Window

At Her Window

BEATING Heart! we come again
Where my Love reposes;
This is Mabel’s window-pane;
These are Mabel’s roses.

Is she nested? Does she kneel
In the twilight stilly,
Lily clad from throat to heel,
She, my virgin Lily?

Soon the wan, the wistful stars,
Fading, will forsake her;
Elves of light, on beamy bars,
Whisper then, and wake her.

Let this friendly pebble plead
At her flowery grating;
If she hear me will she heed?
Mabel, I am waiting.

Mabel will be deck’d anon,
Zoned in bride’s apparel;
Happy zone! O hark to yon
Passion-shaken carol!

Sing thy song, thou tranced thrush,
Pipe thy best, thy clearest;–
Hush, her lattice moves, O hush–
Dearest Mabel!–dearest…

Painting: Woman At Her Window
By Ágost Elek Canzi
Austro-Hungarian Painter
Oil on canvas 19,29 x 14,57 inches
Poem name: At Her Window
Poem by: Frederick Locker-Lampson