University of Virginia Library


216

Lines Written in An Album

Grant me, I cried, some spell of art,
To turn with all a lover's care,
That spotless page, my Eva's heart,
And write my burning wishes there.
But Love, by faithless Lais taught,
(How frail is woman's holiest vow!)
Looked down, while grace-attempered thought
Sat serious on his baby brow.
Go, blot the album, cried the sage,
There none but bards a place may claim;
But woman's heart's a worthless page,
Where every fool may write his name.
Until by time and fate decayed,
That line and leaf shall never part;
Oh! who can tell how soon shall fade
The line of love from woman's heart.