 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
61
THE PORTRAIT.
That tranquil brow, and pensive eye,
Those parted lips of ruby dye;
Each grace that life and reason give,
Is kindling here, and seems to live!
A playful smile illumes the cheek!
Those rubies move!—'t will speak!—'t will speak!
Those parted lips of ruby dye;
Each grace that life and reason give,
Is kindling here, and seems to live!
A playful smile illumes the cheek!
Those rubies move!—'t will speak!—'t will speak!
'T was fancy all!—That senseless bone
Could ne'er be taught her dulcet tone;
No art can teach that eye to move,
Those ruby lips are dead to love.
Illusive dream!—too soon it flies,
The vision fades!—it dies!—it dies!
Could ne'er be taught her dulcet tone;
No art can teach that eye to move,
Those ruby lips are dead to love.
Illusive dream!—too soon it flies,
The vision fades!—it dies!—it dies!
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |