Alice Lee

Through the dim and lonely forest
    Comes a low sweet sound,
Like the whispering of angels
    To the greenwood round,
Bearing through the hours of midnight,
    On their viewless wings,
Music in its measure telling
    High and holy things.
          Through the forest lone and dim
          Swelleth soft the twilight hymn
          Of the old knight's lovely daughter.
              The gentle Alice Lee.


On the grass the dews unbroken
    In their silver lie,
And the stars are out in thousands
    On the deep blue sky;
Bright as when the old Chaldeans
    Held them as the shrine
Where was kept the varying fortune
    Of our human line.
          Would that o'er their mystic scroll
          Better hours may have to roll
          For the old knight's lovely daughter.
              The gentle Alice Lee!


Time was, coming forth together,
    She and Spring might seem
Like the beautiful creations
    Of a morning dream;
Each went through the quiet greenwood
    Wandering alone,
With the green leaves and wild flowers
    O'er their pathway strown.
          Of the seasons in the year
          Spring seemed fittest to be near
          The old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


Round her head the locks are golden,
    So the sun in June
Pours his glory o'er the summer
    At his crystal noon;
From that shining hair, when parted,
    Came the pure high brow,
With the carving of a statue,
    With the mountain's snow.
          Blue her eyes as yon blue heaven,
          Nature every charm had given
          To the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


But it was the inward beauty
    Breathing from her face,
That gave every look and motion
    Its diviner grace;
Thought was on the high white forehead,
    In the deep blue eyes,
And it was the quick warm feeling
    Bade the blushes rise,
          Which could such sweet light impart,
          Writing on the cheek, the heart,
          Of the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


Lovely was the highborn maiden,
    Happy were the hours
Gathering in the oak-tree's shelter
    Mosses and wild flowers;
When the deer from each green coppice
    Fled, a startled band,
Save when some familiar favourite
    Fed from her small hand.
          Danger now, and fear, and wrath,
          Are around the woodland path
          Of the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


Nobly doth she meet the trial,
    She who hath but known
Till the present time of trouble
    Life's smooth path alone.
Though her smile be somewhat sadder,
    And her eye subdued,
Such are lovelier as the token
    Of a higher mood.
          Like an angel's is the face,
          In its meek and pensive grace,
          Of the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


Not an hour of calm and quiet
    Hath his old age found,
There are foes and strangers haunting
    His ancestral ground.
Of his ancient halls and woodlands
    Is the old man reft,
But they have not quite bereaved him,
    For his child is left.
          Others evil fortunes move,
          Deeper, dearer, is the love
          Of the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.


’T is her voice that now is raising
    Words of praise and prayer,
Heaven will consecrate the worship
    Of this hour of care.
Earthly care and earthly sorrow
    Only purify;
Such a heart as that uplifting
    Its best hopes on high.
          Heaven will bless the faithful maid,
          Heaven will bless the duty paid
          By the old knight's lovely daughter,
              The gentle Alice Lee.⁠