Louisa Stuart Costello

The Indian Cupid

Who is he that swiftly comes
    In the lovely silence of night?—
I know him by his sparkling plumes,
   That shine in the clear moonlight;
By the scarlet wings of his soaring bird,
And the ceaseless music round him heard.
        I know him by his arrows,
        And by his blossom'd bow;
By the forms of radiant beauty that bear,
And softly wave in the perfumed air,
         His standard to and fro.

Often and long, on the summer sea,
In the moonlight have I watched for thee—
When the glittering beam was downward thrown,
And each wave with a crest of diamond shone.
I have seen the thin clouds sail along,
And I raised, to welcome thee, many a song;

But long have I lingered, and watch'd in vain,
To see the light of the starry train
Sweep in beauty across the sky,
To tones of heavenly harmony.

Now I behold thee! now 'tis the hour—
Yes! thou art come in thy splendour and power!—
But, no! the vision is passing on,
The bright forms vanish one by one—
On the desolate shore I am left alone!
Yet stay! oh, stay!—like lightning they move—
To well, by thy fleetness, I know thou art Love!