 | Poems |  |
157
THE SUNBEAM.
The sunbeam flashed upon a frost-work gem—
A tremulous water-drop straight met the eye!
Scarce had it quivered on the lily's stem,
Ere the same pitiless beam had drank it dry!
A tremulous water-drop straight met the eye!
Scarce had it quivered on the lily's stem,
Ere the same pitiless beam had drank it dry!
And thus the heart, which in an earlier day
Perchance was snow in all its unsunned pride,
Once melted by wild passion's quenchless ray,
Soon mourns its brightness dimmed—its fountains dried.
Perchance was snow in all its unsunned pride,
Once melted by wild passion's quenchless ray,
Soon mourns its brightness dimmed—its fountains dried.
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