 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
STANZAS.
“Je serai enchanté, si ma chère amie me présente de nouveaux vers.”
If it be true, as some have said,
That they who court the muses' smile
Must ne'er allow the joys of earth
Their feelings to beguile;
If it be true that love ne'er blooms
For those who to such gifts aspire,
That they must joy but in the song,
Must live but for the lyre,—
Then surely, dear one, I may not
E'er hope to share a poet's lot.
That they who court the muses' smile
Must ne'er allow the joys of earth
Their feelings to beguile;
If it be true that love ne'er blooms
For those who to such gifts aspire,
That they must joy but in the song,
Must live but for the lyre,—
Then surely, dear one, I may not
E'er hope to share a poet's lot.
If it be true, as some have said,
That they who rove in fancy's bowers,
Must never turn their steps aside
To pluck earth's fragile flowers;
If it be true that they must yield
The treasures of affection's mine,
And all the spirit's high-wrought powers
To deck the muses' shrine,—
Then surely ne'er for me can glow
The wreath that binds the poet's brow.
That they who rove in fancy's bowers,
Must never turn their steps aside
To pluck earth's fragile flowers;
199
The treasures of affection's mine,
And all the spirit's high-wrought powers
To deck the muses' shrine,—
Then surely ne'er for me can glow
The wreath that binds the poet's brow.
If it be true, as some have said,
That love is all a woman's power,
That tenderness and truth alone
Are woman's richest dower;
If it be true that though she ne'er
May win the meed of deathless fame,
She yet may teach some gentle heart
To treasure up her name,—
Then tell me, dear one, may I not
Contented share a woman's lot?
That love is all a woman's power,
That tenderness and truth alone
Are woman's richest dower;
If it be true that though she ne'er
May win the meed of deathless fame,
She yet may teach some gentle heart
To treasure up her name,—
Then tell me, dear one, may I not
Contented share a woman's lot?
If it be true, as some have said,
That woman's heart alone can teach
The way to that pure happiness
Which genius scarce may reach,—
If this be true, O! ask me not
To seek a poet's lofty name;
I would not give my cherished love
To win undying fame,
And dearer far one smile from thee
Than hopes of immortality.
That woman's heart alone can teach
The way to that pure happiness
Which genius scarce may reach,—
If this be true, O! ask me not
To seek a poet's lofty name;
I would not give my cherished love
To win undying fame,
And dearer far one smile from thee
Than hopes of immortality.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |