The Rape Of The Mist
High o’er the clouds a Sunbeam shone,
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
And far down under him,
With a subtle grace that was all her own,
The Mist gleamed, fair and dim.
He looked at her with burning eyes
And longed to fall at her feet;
Of all sweet things there under the skies,
He thought her the thing most sweet.
He had wooed oft, as a Sunbeam may,
Wave, and blossom, and flower;
But never before had he felt the sway
Of a great love’s mighty power.
Tall cloud-mountains and vast space-seas,
Wind, and tempest, and fire –
What obstacles such as these
To a heart that is filled with desire?
Boldly he trod over cloud and star,
Boldly he swam through space,
She caught the glow of his eyes afar
And veiled her delicate face.
He was so strong and he was so bright,
And his breath was a breath of flame;
The Mist grew pale with a vague, strange fright,
As fond, yet fierce, he came.
Close to his heart she was clasped and kissed;
She swooned in love’s alarms,
And dead lay the beautiful pale-faced Mist
In the Sunbeam’s passionate arms.