 | [Poems by Sargent in] The token and Atlantic souvenir, a Christmas and New Year's present |  |
114
TO S. D.
Had bards as many realms as rhymes,
Thy charms might raise new Antonies.
Byron.
Thy charms might raise new Antonies.
Byron.
Not for thy Phidian shape, O lady fair!
Not for thy cheek, with roseate lustre bright,
Where “York and Lancaster” for empire fight;
Not for the richness of thine auburn hair,
Thine eyes, which so unconsciously ensnare,
And all the charms that in thy smile unite
To lure, yet dazzle, the “rash gazer's” sight,
Do I, the humblest of thy votaries, dare,
This fragile offering at thy feet to lay;—
But for thy spirit's more divine array!
Thy heart retaining, through the world's alloy,
Its vernal freshness, its pure springs of joy!
Dear child of Nature!—so would Wordsworth call thee,—
Smooth seas, blue skies, and prospering gales befall thee!
| [Poems by Sargent in] The token and Atlantic souvenir, a Christmas and New Year's present | |