 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
On a Photograph
Since through the open window of the eyeThe unconscious secret of the soul we trace,
And character is written on the face,
In this sun-picture what do we descry?
An artless innocence, and purpose high
To tread the pleasant paths of truth and grace,
To tend each flower of Duty in its place,
Smile with the gay and comfort those who sigh.
Dear maiden, let a poet breathe the prayer
That God may keep thee still, in all thy ways,
Spotless in heart as thou in face art fair;
And may the gentle current of thy days
Make music even from the stones of care,
And murmur with an undersong of praise.
| Lyra Pastoralis | |