44 
JULY. 
HE was a phantom of delight 
When first she gleamed npon my sight ; 
A loyely apparition, sent 
To be a moment’s ornament; 
Her eyes are stars of twilight fair ; 
' Like twilight, too, her dusky hair; 
But all things else about her drawn 
From May-time and the cheerful dawn; 
A dancing shape, an image gay, 
To haunt, to startle, and waylay. 
I saw her upon nearer yiew 
A spirit, but a woman too ! 
Her household motions light and free, 
And steps of virgin liberty; 
A countenance in which did meet 
Sweet records, promises as sweet; 
A creature not too bright or good 
For human nature’s daily food; 
For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 
And now I see with eye serene 
The very pulse of the machine; 
A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
A traveller betwixt life and death ; 
The reason firm, the temperate will, 
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill. 
A perfect woman, nobly planned,- 
To warm, to comfort, and command; 
And yet a spirit still, and bright 
With something of an angel light. 
Wordsworth. 
