 | Poems |  |
139
TO L. M.
“La mia Sorella che tra buona e bella
Non so qual più fosse.”
Non so qual più fosse.”
Soft eyes, soft hands, soft step that with no sound
Hath glided to my side; I know ye near,
Yet pause not from my task to look around
With lifted glance, for, Halcyon! where'er
Thou buildest for awhile, an atmosphere
Of calm and quiet broods about thy nest;
O thou beloved inmate! not a Guest
Art thou, in any house, in any heart,
For so thy presence makes itself a part
Of all, we feel it like an unexpressed
Sweet thought within the soul that gives it rest,
And needeth not to be in words confessed;
So moving on as if some inner law
Of music graced thy steps, we only find
And feel thee in our lives, because we draw
An easier breath through mingling of so kind
And pure an element! thy soul doth lose
No odour, yet around it still diffuse
140
The secret of thy strength! oh, Rose full blown,
That wearest still the bud's soft grace, unstrown
Are all thy petals; provident and wise,
Thou hidest from the day's too-curious eyes
The dews the morning gave thee, and dost fold
A leaf above thy heart, but with no cold
Reserve, for still its sweetness overflows.
I question now thy Future: on what breast
Wilt thou at length thy perfect bloom unclose?
I know not, yet I know thou wilt be blest!
| Poems | |