University of Virginia Library

Let me their lovely forms recall!
I love them each, I love them all.
The First, she is a maiden tall,
With all the grace that needs must be
Allied to faultless symmetry;
With eyes, serene in mirth or woe,
Mostly in modest dignity
Down-dropt, albeit of loving glow;
A mien so proudly unpretending,
The lofty with the lowly blending!

The Second is a gentle creature,
More rustic, yet as fair of feature;
Reserved, and sparing of her speech;
Yet eloquence no voice could reach
Instils a face whose features fair
Seem all absorbed in eyes and hair—
Such large dark eyes—such long dark hair!
Her long dark hair luxuriant, wound
With classic taste her head around;
With taste she knows not of—so rare;
With carelessness surpassing care!
Her eyes—their darkly burning light
Doth overflow the pupils bright;
And when downcast, fills all between
The dark-fringed lids with jetty sheen:
Dear eyes, their earnest tenderness
Not staid reserve can quite suppress!
Oh dearest! for therein you see
Love struggling with timidity!
What though habitually an air
Composed, nay almost grave, she wear,
A rebel glance will now and then
Steal upward from its crystal den,
And tell, in spite of her control
Her deep devotedness of soul!
Her lip—her cheek—oh! words are weak
To paint her lip, her brow, her cheek!
Not formed by perfect rule, yet far
More lovely than more regular!
Who would not change the beauties shown
On canvas oft, so oft in stone,
For features fresh wherein may be
A fine peculiarity?
For lineaments in which we trace
A marked, an individual grace,
Something we do not elsewhere find
In loveliest of womankind!
But oh, that something! no one knoweth
From whence it comes, wherein it gloweth!
In conscious strength it seems to sit,
Defying us to fathom it:
Love, curious wonder, and delight
So rouse each other, so excite,
We gaze with joy, again, again,
That almost deepens into pain,
So much we long, yet strive in vain,
The subtle secret to explain!
So torture thought to make it tell,
In w hat consists, wherein may dwell,
The witchery we can feel so well,
The fascination of the spell!

The Third is lively, young and gay;
In form, O what more like a Fay,
With eyes of shyly-glimmering grey,
Whereon long lashes blackly lie
Like fir-tree tops on moonlit sky!
Dear maidens! what though you were bred
Where forests like an ocean spread,
Your friends, your models, such as live
In Backwoods where no polish is,
I know few charms dense cities give
Of heart or person that you miss!
So well you know your proper due,
Your own, and that of others too!
Retiring still, still self-possessed;
With unassuming prudence blest,
And cheerfulness, the quietest:
With softness, spirit so combined
As both to rouse and soothe the mind
Is yours; a modesty refined;
And you are simple, frank, and kind!
Of tempers so sedately sweet
That grief or pain you seldom meet:
The thorns that harsher objects tear
Wound not the soft, elastic air!
Content's a thing to you unknown,
Because it is so much your own:
The insect bred within the rose
How sweet its home is, never knows;
Till launched on wings to haunts untried
Wherein no fragrance may abide!
Farewell, bright maidens! when alone
Far down beneath the torrid zone,
Dear thoughts of you shall with me glide
Like stars that travel by our side
At midnight when we swiftly ride,
Stop when we stop, observant, true,
And when we move, move onward too!
Farewell! farewell! a foreign shore
I seek, and ne'er shall see you more!
Not see you, but remember still
With love depending not on will;
I could not, if I would, forget
A place I leave with such regret:
I could not coldly call to mind
Dear friends, so beautiful and kind;
No! I shall love, where'er I roam,
Those kind dear friends, that far off home!