Euphrenia or the Test of Love A poem by William Sharp |
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 | Euphrenia or the Test of Love |  |
XXVII.
Yet oftentimes would those ripe lipsGive passage to a sigh;
Those eyes would brilliant drops distil,
When, in her privacy,
She thought upon her orphan state,
Longed for a parent's kiss;
Fortune, so lavish otherwise,
Had been unkind in this.
E'en in the midst of pleasure's train
She felt herself alone;
And loneliness has pangs for which
No fortune can atone.
| Euphrenia or the Test of Love | |