 | Poems by Bernard Barton |  |
187
TO A PROFILE.
I knew thee not! then wherefore gaze
Upon thy silent shadow there,
Which so imperfectly portrays
The form thy features us'd to wear?
Yet have I often look'd at thee,
As if those lips could speak to me.
Upon thy silent shadow there,
Which so imperfectly portrays
The form thy features us'd to wear?
Yet have I often look'd at thee,
As if those lips could speak to me.
I knew thee not! and thou couldst know,
At best, but little more of one
Whose pilgrimage on earth below
Commenc'd, just ere thy own was done;
For few and fleeting days were thine,
To hope or fear for lot of mine.
At best, but little more of one
Whose pilgrimage on earth below
Commenc'd, just ere thy own was done;
For few and fleeting days were thine,
To hope or fear for lot of mine.
Yet few and fleeting as they were,
Fancy and feeling picture this,
They prompted many a fervent prayer,
Witness'd, perchance, a parting kiss;
And might not kiss, and prayer, from thee,
At such a period, profit me?
Fancy and feeling picture this,
They prompted many a fervent prayer,
Witness'd, perchance, a parting kiss;
And might not kiss, and prayer, from thee,
At such a period, profit me?
188
Whether they did, or not; I owe
At least this tribute to they worth;
Though little all I can bestow,
Yet fond affection gives it birth;
And prompts me, as thy shade I view,
To bless thee, whom I never knew!
At least this tribute to they worth;
Though little all I can bestow,
Yet fond affection gives it birth;
And prompts me, as thy shade I view,
To bless thee, whom I never knew!
| Poems by Bernard Barton | |