The Poetry of Real Life A New Edition, Much Enlarged and Improved. By Henry Ellison |
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TO ONE NOT FORGOTTEN. |
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 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
211
TO ONE NOT FORGOTTEN.
'Tis not alone thy lovely face
That charms, though fair it be,
As a May-morning in the grace
Of its first witcherie.
That charms, though fair it be,
As a May-morning in the grace
Of its first witcherie.
'Tis not alone thy form divine,
That like the lily bends,
So stately, yet so feminine,
Where love with reverence blends!
That like the lily bends,
So stately, yet so feminine,
Where love with reverence blends!
212
'Tis not thy lips, on which a smile,
E'en when they're motionless,
Still dwells, as if to reconcile
Mirth with deep thoughtfulness.
E'en when they're motionless,
Still dwells, as if to reconcile
Mirth with deep thoughtfulness.
'Tis not thy cheek, on which the hues
Of morn and evening meet,
The freshness of the first, the dews
Which make the last so sweet;
Of morn and evening meet,
The freshness of the first, the dews
Which make the last so sweet;
The softened light which hallows all,
Chastening the garishness
Of day—the tender gleams which fall—
The shadows numberless—
Chastening the garishness
Of day—the tender gleams which fall—
The shadows numberless—
It is thine eye, which like the star
Of evening, promise gives,
Of home, and all home's joys—joys far
Beyond Kings' prerogatives!
Of evening, promise gives,
Of home, and all home's joys—joys far
Beyond Kings' prerogatives!
It is thy smile, which comes and goes:
Thy soul, which outwardly
O'er its fair dwelling-place thus throws
Its own divinity—
Thy soul, which outwardly
O'er its fair dwelling-place thus throws
Its own divinity—
As if on that sweet face were writ,
In characters of light,
How in that goodly mansion it
Found all things requisite!
In characters of light,
How in that goodly mansion it
Found all things requisite!
Thoughts that can upward soar, and tears
For thoughts too deep for words:
And smiles, like those the young Spring wears,
And music like the bird's!
For thoughts too deep for words:
And smiles, like those the young Spring wears,
And music like the bird's!
Simplicity to clothe it, as
The angels are with light,
And Truth, the spirit's looking-glass,
Kept evermore in sight;
The angels are with light,
And Truth, the spirit's looking-glass,
Kept evermore in sight;
213
'Tis this—'tis these—the nameless grace,
Which through each look doth thrill,
That claim for thee an angel's place,
Yet leave thee woman still.
Which through each look doth thrill,
That claim for thee an angel's place,
Yet leave thee woman still.
Yet they're but names for one same thing:
Or, if a difference be,
'Tis that thou want'st the angel's wing,
For true love cannot flee!
Or, if a difference be,
'Tis that thou want'st the angel's wing,
For true love cannot flee!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |