 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
[III. The indelible hues of memory on my heart]
The indelible hues of memory on my heart,Have limn'd thee in perfection rare as true;
I see thee rise before my present view,
Each lineament all living as thou art—
As Art can never reach! Thy pale white brow,
Lofty and massive; the keen falcon eye,
Eager, yet with that arch vivacity
Which argued well the merry heart below;
The brown curls scattered o'er thy forehead fair;
The Roman beak; the sweet mouth free of guile;
The very girlish dimple in thy smile,
That still betray'd the quip before its birth,
When the sly thought, half satire and half mirth,
Made thee the happiest Yorick at our cheer.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |