 | Echoes of Spring |  |
3
TO HELEN.
Oh Helen! thou art passing fair,
With locks of sable hue;
So glossy is thy curly hair,
Surpass thy beauty few.
With locks of sable hue;
So glossy is thy curly hair,
Surpass thy beauty few.
Thy smile is like a rainbow tint
That lights the sky above;
Deep in my heart hast Cupid sent,
A shaft, dipped deep with love.
That lights the sky above;
Deep in my heart hast Cupid sent,
A shaft, dipped deep with love.
I look upon thy dark brown face,
Thy laughing eyes I see;
Could I with gifted power but trace,
Thy love in store for me!
Thy laughing eyes I see;
Could I with gifted power but trace,
Thy love in store for me!
Oh Helen! thou art passing fair,
Thou oft hast heard me sigh;
From wounded love in deep dispair,
Of thee, heard no reply.
Thou oft hast heard me sigh;
From wounded love in deep dispair,
Of thee, heard no reply.
4
Turn not with modest smiles away,
Thou little timid dove;
But list unto my plea this day,
And hear my song of love.
Thou little timid dove;
But list unto my plea this day,
And hear my song of love.
| Echoes of Spring | |