 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
TO IRENE.
The gentle dove prepares her young no food,
Nor does she teach them how she built her nest,
Nor how upon her new laid eggs to brood—
These things they know—are they not doubly blest?
Nor does she teach them how she built her nest,
Nor how upon her new laid eggs to brood—
These things they know—are they not doubly blest?
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The tuneful linnet pours her matin tone
As did her sire in Eden's rosy bower—
Yea, tends her young till they are fledged and flown,
With all the kindness of that happy hour.
As did her sire in Eden's rosy bower—
Yea, tends her young till they are fledged and flown,
With all the kindness of that happy hour.
'Tis thus, sweet lady! I would nurse and tend
To bathe thy pinions in exalted flight,
And strive with thine to make my actions blend,
As two deep rivers when they first unite.
To bathe thy pinions in exalted flight,
And strive with thine to make my actions blend,
As two deep rivers when they first unite.
Or thrills, like dew-drops on some gentle flower,
When left alone, they shine like starry light;
But when they mingle—by some heavenly power—
They make but one, a thousand times more bright.
When left alone, they shine like starry light;
But when they mingle—by some heavenly power—
They make but one, a thousand times more bright.
'Tis thus our feelings into one shall flow,
Like silver dew-drops of the morn and even,
Till two fond hearts make one on earth below,
And that bright one as deep as earth from heaven.
Like silver dew-drops of the morn and even,
Till two fond hearts make one on earth below,
And that bright one as deep as earth from heaven.
As two deep fountains all their rills unite,
In some wide valley where sweet roses blow,
So shall our beings blend with one delight,
And from two brooklets make life's river flow.
In some wide valley where sweet roses blow,
So shall our beings blend with one delight,
And from two brooklets make life's river flow.
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |