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Poems

By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley
 

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68

THE FROWN.

As the Bulbul o'erpowered the young rose of the dell
With the melody-breathings he showered o'er her blushes,
Thy voice waked my soul with its mastering spell;
Still it reigns in that soul, though in echo's faint gushes.
As the morning-beam flashed o'er the foam of the sea,
And burned o'er the pale spray, like roses on snow;
So the sun of thy smile blazed in beauty on me,
And called laughter's lightnings from cheeks blanched with wo!

69

As the sweet crescent silvered the dark-branching tree,
As she thrilled the dim leaves with her glimpsings of splendour;
So thy glance lit my thoughts, which, illumined by thee,
Shone all cloudlessly bright—yet all tremblingly tender.
As that cypress-tree shrouded the flowery-crowned glade,
As the cloud-masses darkened the landscape's warm glow,
As the night its stern weight on the bright waters laid;
So thy frown overshadowed my heart and my brow.
It came like a dream! let it dream-like depart!
Must my happiness brief as 'twas beautiful be?
Must I watch the slow-withering death of my heart,
When its life and that happiness hang but on thee?