My Lovely Lady Grey

She sits beside me statuesque
Not posed like dancer's arabesque
Her features form a faithful face
Like goddess of a long-dead race

She sparkles like the silver moon
On summer nights in flaming June
And sheds her lustre and her light
Upon my dark and dreary night

She's silent sometimes as the trees
Unshook by breath of breathing breeze
With mild, most melancholic mind
And heart that's of the tender kind

She speaks with words that woo the waves
The beauty in her voice betrays
An angel, in a female frame
Olympian, with human name.

Who is this purest, priceless pearl?
Dressed in the guise of gracious girl?
If you don't know by now, I'll tell.
All questioning I'll duly quell:

She is the lovely lady grey
Who smiled on me one autumn day
When I was lifeless as a leaf
Fresh fallen in my godless grief.