 | The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard |  |
192
THE SHADOWS OF LOVE.
1835.
As a rose-leaf may tincture
The breast with its hue,
So Love's golden cincture
Must darken it too.
The breast with its hue,
So Love's golden cincture
Must darken it too.
Yet light are the troubles
That sadden its mirth,
As the smooth water-bubbles
That break in their birth.
That sadden its mirth,
As the smooth water-bubbles
That break in their birth.
The shade on his temples
His bright locks diffuse;
And the tears in his dimples,
What are they but dews?
His bright locks diffuse;
And the tears in his dimples,
What are they but dews?
The slightest thing made,
Though fragile and tender,
Hath always a shade
To await on its splendour.
Though fragile and tender,
Hath always a shade
To await on its splendour.
193
And how should Love's tone
Have exemption from grief,
When a shadow is thrown
From the lily's clear leaf?
Have exemption from grief,
When a shadow is thrown
From the lily's clear leaf?
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