 | Poems |  |
120
XLVI. BEATUS SIS, CARISSIME!
I love to gaze on thy face so fair,
And the sunny locks of thy flowing hair,
And to read the joyous spell that lies
In the flashing glance of those dark bright eyes.
And the sunny locks of thy flowing hair,
And to read the joyous spell that lies
In the flashing glance of those dark bright eyes.
But thou art wayward, wild, and young;
Thy will is weak, and the world is strong;
O ne'er may her fond wiles have power
To lure thee in temptation's hour!
Thy will is weak, and the world is strong;
O ne'er may her fond wiles have power
To lure thee in temptation's hour!
Let no earth-stain of sin defile
The freshness of that radiant smile;
Still on thy brow the cross be bright,
Unmarred thy chrisom's spotless white.
The freshness of that radiant smile;
Still on thy brow the cross be bright,
Unmarred thy chrisom's spotless white.
121
Blithe be thy boyhood, blest thy youth,
Nursed in the ways of holiest truth,
Thine be the draught of innocent joy,
The purer, sure, the last to cloy,
Nursed in the ways of holiest truth,
Thine be the draught of innocent joy,
The purer, sure, the last to cloy,
A generous heart, a happy home,
A life that lightens others' gloom,
High gifts to highest uses given,
An honoured grave, an early heaven!
A life that lightens others' gloom,
High gifts to highest uses given,
An honoured grave, an early heaven!
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