Poems by James Hyslop ... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns |
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| XVII. | XVII.
To Lydia's Sister.
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 | Poems by James Hyslop |  |
XVII.
To Lydia's Sister.
Lady of dark, sweet eyes!
Soft as the summer skies;
Where little Cupid lies
Watching his prey.
It brings delight to me
That I must write to thee
Epistles in poetry:—
What shall I say?
Soft as the summer skies;
Where little Cupid lies
Watching his prey.
It brings delight to me
That I must write to thee
Epistles in poetry:—
What shall I say?
Had our young hearts been free
When I first met with thee,
I would have wrote to thee
Sweet songs of love:
No heart like mine could lie
Long 'neath thy beaming eye
But it must breathe a sigh—
Oh! don't reprove!
When I first met with thee,
I would have wrote to thee
Sweet songs of love:
No heart like mine could lie
Long 'neath thy beaming eye
But it must breathe a sigh—
Oh! don't reprove!
I mind a byegone year
When thy dark eyes were dear;
Young love has many a fear:
So 'twas with mine.
'Twas well my heart conceal'd
Thoughts not till now reveal'd;
Other eyes made it yield—
Dark eyes like thine.
When thy dark eyes were dear;
Young love has many a fear:
So 'twas with mine.
'Twas well my heart conceal'd
Thoughts not till now reveal'd;
Other eyes made it yield—
Dark eyes like thine.
140
That heart's engaged now,
Linked in love's softest vow:
Should it make love to you,
You must despise it.
One that has loved it long
Still has its warmest song:
Trust me, that maiden young
Dearly can prize it.
Linked in love's softest vow:
Should it make love to you,
You must despise it.
One that has loved it long
Still has its warmest song:
Trust me, that maiden young
Dearly can prize it.
O Fanny! wilt thou be
One kind young friend to me?
Then I will write to thee
In pure affection.
At thoughts of vanish'd love
Friendship shall warmer prove;
Softer the lay be wove
From dear recollection.
One kind young friend to me?
Then I will write to thee
In pure affection.
At thoughts of vanish'd love
Friendship shall warmer prove;
Softer the lay be wove
From dear recollection.
| Poems by James Hyslop | |