 | My Sonnets |  |
50
TO ------
I know you not, although, perchance, my eyeHas, in my daily walks, a moment, seen
Your passing form,—my steps, perchance, have been
Checked, for a moment, as you glided by,
To note your natural grace. Methinks, you lie,
A nameless thought, among my thoughts, and wean,
At times, my fancy, hovering between
The present and the past, with memory,
To wander among recollections fair.
I know you not, yet would your life should be
Fair as your face or form. May always care
Be, as I am, a stranger. May years see
Smiles only your companions; and each hour,
While dancing by, but pleasures on you shower.
June 17th, 1843.
| My Sonnets | |