 | Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies |  |
III.
TO THE SISTER OF MY FRIEND.
Sweet Lady! in the name of one no more,Both of us loved and neither shall forget,
Make me thy brother,—though our hearts before,
Perchance, have never in communion met;
Give me thy gentle memories, though there be,
Between our forms some thousand miles of sea,
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Whate'er the joy that warms me, or the thrill,
That tortures, and from which I may not flee,
Hold ever a sweet place within thy breast!
In this my spirit shall be more than bless'd—
And in my prayers,—if, haply, prayer of mine
Be not a wrong unto a soul like thine,—
There shall be blessings from the skies for thee.
| Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies | |