Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III Keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's Abbey, a metrical tale; With some poetical pieces. By Anne Radcliffe ... To which is prefixed: A memoir of the author, with extracts from her journals. In four volumes |
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SMILES. |
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 | Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III |  |
253
SMILES.
I was a smile—a fleeting smile,
Like a faint gleam through Autumn's shade,
That softly, sweetly, did beguile,
As it around her dimples played.
Like a faint gleam through Autumn's shade,
That softly, sweetly, did beguile,
As it around her dimples played.
What are smiles, and whence their sway?
Smiles that, o'er the features stealing,
To the gazer's heart convey
All the varied world of feeling,
What are smiles?
Smiles that, o'er the features stealing,
To the gazer's heart convey
All the varied world of feeling,
What are smiles?
Do they dwell in Beauty's eye?
No! nor on her playing cheek,
Nor on her wavy lip—though nigh
Seems the glancing charm they seek.
Where do they dwell?
No! nor on her playing cheek,
Nor on her wavy lip—though nigh
Seems the glancing charm they seek.
Where do they dwell?
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Where?—Their home is in the mind;
Smiles are light—the light of soul!
Light of many tints combined,
And of strong and sure control.
Smiles are light.
Smiles are light—the light of soul!
Light of many tints combined,
And of strong and sure control.
Smiles are light.
There's a smile—the smile of Joy,
Bright as glance of May's fresh morn;
And one, that gleams but to destroy,—
'Tis the lightning smile of Scorn.
Bright as glance of May's fresh morn;
And one, that gleams but to destroy,—
'Tis the lightning smile of Scorn.
There is a smile of glow-worm hue,
That glimmers not near scenes of Folly,
Pale and strange and transient too,—
The smile of awful Melancholy.
That glimmers not near scenes of Folly,
Pale and strange and transient too,—
The smile of awful Melancholy.
Like to the sad and silvery showers,
Falling in an April sun,
Is the smile, that Pity pours
O'er the deed, that Fate has done.
Falling in an April sun,
Is the smile, that Pity pours
O'er the deed, that Fate has done.
Dear is Friendship's meeting look,
As moonlight on a sleeping vale,
Soothing those the sun forsook—
So does that o'er Care prevail.
As moonlight on a sleeping vale,
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So does that o'er Care prevail.
But who the first pure tint has seen,
That trembles on the edge of Morning,
When summer's veil is so serene,
Hiding half and half adorning?
That trembles on the edge of Morning,
When summer's veil is so serene,
Hiding half and half adorning?
They, who this have seen, may know,
What the smile that's here intended;
They, who do to Laura go,
See that smile with beauty blended.
What the smile that's here intended;
They, who do to Laura go,
See that smile with beauty blended.
| Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III | |