 | Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) |  |
52
INNOCENZA.
Thou art not a being of upper air,
Though thy form be as slender, thy beauty as rare;
Nor a daughter of the bounding sea,
Though thy smile be as sunny, thy bosom as free.
Though thy form be as slender, thy beauty as rare;
Nor a daughter of the bounding sea,
Though thy smile be as sunny, thy bosom as free.
Thou art not the Dryad's woodland child,
Though the glance of thine eye be as timidly wild.
Nor nymph on the margin of haunted rill,
Nor fairy that circles the moonlit hill.
Though the glance of thine eye be as timidly wild.
Nor nymph on the margin of haunted rill,
Nor fairy that circles the moonlit hill.
Spirits are these, but of humbler birth
Than the heavenly soul of a child of earth:
Spirits are these that must fade and die,
But a spirit art thou of eternity.
Than the heavenly soul of a child of earth:
Spirits are these that must fade and die,
But a spirit art thou of eternity.
For a Christian mother o'er thee did raise
A prayer of hope, and a hymn of praise,
That thou might'st pass, when life be spent,
Pure to thy Maker, and innocent.
A prayer of hope, and a hymn of praise,
That thou might'st pass, when life be spent,
Pure to thy Maker, and innocent.
Sadly she soothed thy plaintive wail,
Till the rosy hues of her cheek grew pale,
Wearily watching thine infant bed,
While sleep from her heavy eyelids fled.
Till the rosy hues of her cheek grew pale,
Wearily watching thine infant bed,
While sleep from her heavy eyelids fled.
And fondly she looked, that a brighter day
Those sorrowful hours should well repay—
A day of long and brilliant years,
Full of promise, and free from tears.
Those sorrowful hours should well repay—
A day of long and brilliant years,
Full of promise, and free from tears.
53
And she trembles now with a fearful delight,
As she gazes on thee, thou blossom bright;
Oh, may no breath of sin or slight
Steal o'er thy flowerets, to banish their light!
As she gazes on thee, thou blossom bright;
Oh, may no breath of sin or slight
Steal o'er thy flowerets, to banish their light!
The ills that must be to all our race,
Mayest thou bear with patience and humble grace;
Brighter, and better, and happier still,
Till thy years shall have passed the brow of the hill!
Mayest thou bear with patience and humble grace;
Brighter, and better, and happier still,
Till thy years shall have passed the brow of the hill!
Then, when thy path shall be downward turned,
And heaven desired, yet earth not spurned,
To thy long home pass, in calm content,
Pure as thou now art, and innocent.
And heaven desired, yet earth not spurned,
To thy long home pass, in calm content,
Pure as thou now art, and innocent.
| Poems of "Frank Forester" (Henry William Herbert) | |