ANGELINA.
For ever gentle, sweet, and lone,
Her voice, her step, her hand subdued,
She moves like one who ne'er has known
The changes of a human mood.
The tender dawn of those fair eyes
Breaks, vaguely sweet, through tears unfalling;
Waking strange Fancies; Memories
As sweet, as strange recalling.
A soft shade makes her face more fair:—
Not softer, slanted from above
On lilies rocked in evening air
That shadow from the Star of Love!
Say, has she loved? in some far sphere
Perhaps she loved, and loved in vain;
And still in this cold exile here
Forgets the cause, but feels the pain.
