 | Art and Fashion |  |
227
AN EARLY VISITOR.
The dewy morn, with golden feet,
Came sighing fond, and blushing sweet;
And o'er the casement's flowery stand
Reclined her warm and brilliant hand;
Stole from the rose its rath perfume,
And leapt, all glowing, in the room;
Shook gold upon the carpet round,
Each printed form, with sunthreads bound.
Anon—as if half weary there—
Her golden limbs adorned a chair;
And flashed a hundred brilliant hues
On classic Reynolds' “Tragic Muse;”
Pressed golden kisses o'er the pearl
Of Christall's lovely “Shepherd Girl;”
And, spite of Shakspere's verse of old,
Kept gilding still refinèd gold!—
At last a little over-free,
She threw herself upon my knee;
In beaming glances met my looks,
And blinded me for reading books:
Red, green, or orange spots were all
I found where'er my sight could fall;
'Till, half provoked, I wish'd the maid
Were fairly buried in the shade!
For, jealous of the least advance,
She struck the fire out with a glance;
Then, as with music's gifts to please,
Her sparkling fingers touched the keys!
'Twas something to be seen, not heard,
Too eloquent for note, or word:
Cecilia's hand, though oft admired,
Had ne'er such brilliancy inspired;
Could ne'er intenser gaze enthral;
But then, alas, the touch was all!
Came sighing fond, and blushing sweet;
And o'er the casement's flowery stand
Reclined her warm and brilliant hand;
Stole from the rose its rath perfume,
And leapt, all glowing, in the room;
Shook gold upon the carpet round,
Each printed form, with sunthreads bound.
Anon—as if half weary there—
Her golden limbs adorned a chair;
And flashed a hundred brilliant hues
On classic Reynolds' “Tragic Muse;”
Pressed golden kisses o'er the pearl
Of Christall's lovely “Shepherd Girl;”
And, spite of Shakspere's verse of old,
Kept gilding still refinèd gold!—
At last a little over-free,
She threw herself upon my knee;
In beaming glances met my looks,
And blinded me for reading books:
228
I found where'er my sight could fall;
'Till, half provoked, I wish'd the maid
Were fairly buried in the shade!
For, jealous of the least advance,
She struck the fire out with a glance;
Then, as with music's gifts to please,
Her sparkling fingers touched the keys!
'Twas something to be seen, not heard,
Too eloquent for note, or word:
Cecilia's hand, though oft admired,
Had ne'er such brilliancy inspired;
Could ne'er intenser gaze enthral;
But then, alas, the touch was all!
So I to business hurried then;
Engagements with commercial men
Sped swift the time; whilst Morn withdrew
To vernal scenes and pleasures new;
Through lanes with honeysuckle sweet,
Through many a sylvan, calm retreat;
Danced with the ripple of the brook,
Still gilding every path she took;
And, oh! till we again may meet,
May Heaven bless those golden feet!
Engagements with commercial men
Sped swift the time; whilst Morn withdrew
To vernal scenes and pleasures new;
Through lanes with honeysuckle sweet,
Through many a sylvan, calm retreat;
Danced with the ripple of the brook,
Still gilding every path she took;
And, oh! till we again may meet,
May Heaven bless those golden feet!
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