 | Judith, Esther, and other poems |  |
TO ---
Tomorrow, then, dost thou depart?
I hoped the tale might not be true—
Believe me, stranger, as thou art,
Reluctantly I say adieu:
Yet surely have no reason why
Thy destiny should cost a sigh.
I hoped the tale might not be true—
Believe me, stranger, as thou art,
Reluctantly I say adieu:
Yet surely have no reason why
Thy destiny should cost a sigh.
Thy hair, I know, is auburn bright,
I know thy speaking eyes are blue,
But there are many curls as light,
And many eyes as brilliant too—
Though truly there is seldom seen
A more engaging face and mien.
I know thy speaking eyes are blue,
But there are many curls as light,
And many eyes as brilliant too—
Though truly there is seldom seen
A more engaging face and mien.
77
Still, those avail not—trifles—less—
But when the rapid, flowing thought
Falls from thy lip in playfulness,
With spoils of classic blossoms fraught,
How much of soul is in the glow.
That dyes so oft that brow of snow.
But when the rapid, flowing thought
Falls from thy lip in playfulness,
With spoils of classic blossoms fraught,
How much of soul is in the glow.
That dyes so oft that brow of snow.
'Tis not the common blush we trace,
Of youth and bashfulness extreme,
So often in th' uncultured face,
As such as see thee once, may deem—
No, thou hast grasped the hand of time,
And breathed the air of many a clime.
Of youth and bashfulness extreme,
So often in th' uncultured face,
As such as see thee once, may deem—
No, thou hast grasped the hand of time,
And breathed the air of many a clime.
Soft is thy cheek and downy; yet
Of many a maid thou'st heard the sigh,
The tender fair, the light brunette,
Alike have felt thine azure eye.
The Turkish dame has seen that face—
And coldly met her lord's embrace.
Of many a maid thou'st heard the sigh,
The tender fair, the light brunette,
Alike have felt thine azure eye.
The Turkish dame has seen that face—
And coldly met her lord's embrace.
The sense that ne'er can callous grow
To pleasure's throb, or sorrow's smart,
Bids the pure flood of darting flow
Rush in warm currents from thy heart.
Come, manhood, age, like mine-warmed rill,
Mid rocks and snows, 'twill never chill.
To pleasure's throb, or sorrow's smart,
Bids the pure flood of darting flow
Rush in warm currents from thy heart.
Come, manhood, age, like mine-warmed rill,
Mid rocks and snows, 'twill never chill.
78
Oh! sigh'st thou for thy native skies?
Those fields with flowers and clusters fair
Bloom but to bless a despot's eyes,
And war and crime are lurking there.
One tyrant hurls another down,
Because—himself would wear the crown.
Those fields with flowers and clusters fair
Bloom but to bless a despot's eyes,
And war and crime are lurking there.
One tyrant hurls another down,
Because—himself would wear the crown.
Stay—even here, light zephyrs fly,
Now cruel Winter's loosed her zone,
Stay—we have climes where Nature's sigh
Is soft and healthful as thine own—
Where our young Eagle spreads her wing,
And cities from the desert spring.
Now cruel Winter's loosed her zone,
Stay—we have climes where Nature's sigh
Is soft and healthful as thine own—
Where our young Eagle spreads her wing,
And cities from the desert spring.
| Judith, Esther, and other poems | |