A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | ||
TO A BEAUTY.
Beautiful, yes! but the blush will fade,The light grow dim which the blue eyes wear;
The gloss will vanish from curl and braid,
And the sunbeam die in the waving hair.
Turn from the mirror, and strive to win
Treasures of loveliness still to last;
Gather earth's glory and bloom within,
That the soul may be bright when youth is past.
A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | ||