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22
TO MARIAN.
Marian, thy smile of Beauty, and the gleamOf that bold eye—of such expressive bloom,
Whose hue, unstain'd by Sorrow's dew of gloom,
Shines like the radiance of the Sapphire's beam—
So bright, oh, God! the splendor of its rays,
Is scarcely balanc'd by the diamond's lustre:
And though thy raven ringlet's clustre,
At times—may veil the beauty of its blaze;
Yet, like the mighty Sun of Heaven's bound—
Forcing its clouds of gloom—so dense and dark—
So does thy lovely orbit's glowing spark
Glance wildly forth—and dazzle all around!
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O'er the soft colour of thy crimson cheek;
And the mild blush, so beautifully meek—
All that is fairest and most perfect—blending,
Seem some celestial union to bespeak!
Such are thy charms—by Virtue proudly prov'd—
Envied by all who know thee, yet by all belov'd!
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