 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
SONNET TO ---
'Tis not that eye of liquid fire,Those cheeks that with these roses vie,
That wakes my soul to young desire,
And gives my heart to ecstacy.
'Tis not the dimple on thy cheek,
Where mingling loves and graces play;
Nor yet the iv'ry of that neck
Where am'rous ringlets love to stray.
Thine eye is bright, thy neck is fair
And soft the ringlets flowing there—
'Tis not that eye, that neck, that hair—
But 'tis thy mind's undying ray,
Whilst Life is warm, and thought is free,
That binds my constant heart to thee!
| Lyrical and other poems | |