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 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
Distant and dark—by graves divided—far
From her, who rose his morning's earliest star;
Her, whose sweet eyes of love, and polish'd mind,
Were to the young and graceful Wentworth kind,
Impious—in plighted faith of heart, to share
The unpermitted chalice of despair.
From her, who rose his morning's earliest star;
Her, whose sweet eyes of love, and polish'd mind,
Were to the young and graceful Wentworth kind,
Impious—in plighted faith of heart, to share
The unpermitted chalice of despair.
| My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | |