 | Summer |  |
42
SONG.
[I saw her but a lover's hour]
I saw her but a lover's hour,
That beauty without beauty's pride,
As humble as the wayside flower
That blushing droops when fondly eyed:—
Her hair was like the golden rays
That fall on mountain-heads of snow;
And angels might with wonder gaze
Upon the whiteness of her brow.
That beauty without beauty's pride,
As humble as the wayside flower
That blushing droops when fondly eyed:—
Her hair was like the golden rays
That fall on mountain-heads of snow;
And angels might with wonder gaze
Upon the whiteness of her brow.
Her eyes were like twin violets,
The violets of the sunny south,
Which dewy morn delighted wets,
And kisses with delicious mouth.
Her cheek was pale as the wan Moon,
The young moon of the virgin year,
Whenas her night is past its noon,
And the warm-kissing sun is near.
The violets of the sunny south,
Which dewy morn delighted wets,
And kisses with delicious mouth.
Her cheek was pale as the wan Moon,
The young moon of the virgin year,
Whenas her night is past its noon,
And the warm-kissing sun is near.
43
Her closed mouth was like a bud
Full of the balmy breath of May;
Her voice was like a summer flood
That noiseless steals its gentle way;
Its sound on memory's ear will start
Like to a sweet, forgotten tune,
Whose echoes live within a heart
That what it loves forgets not soon.
Full of the balmy breath of May;
Her voice was like a summer flood
That noiseless steals its gentle way;
Its sound on memory's ear will start
Like to a sweet, forgotten tune,
Whose echoes live within a heart
That what it loves forgets not soon.
| Summer | |