 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
XXI.
Sweet flower! thou'rt lovelier even than the rose:
The rose is pleasure,—felt and known as such;
Soon past, but real; tasted while it glows:
But thou, too bright and pure for mortal touch,
The rose is pleasure,—felt and known as such;
Soon past, but real; tasted while it glows:
But thou, too bright and pure for mortal touch,
10
Art like those brilliant things we never taste
Or see, unless with Fancy's lip and eye
When, maddened by her mystic spells, we waste
Life on a thought, and rob reality.
Or see, unless with Fancy's lip and eye
When, maddened by her mystic spells, we waste
Life on a thought, and rob reality.
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |