Poems of the late George Darley A memorial volume printed for private circulation |
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TO HELENE—ON A GIFTE-RING CARELESSLIE LOST. |
 | Poems of the late George Darley |  |
206
TO HELENE—ON A GIFTE-RING CARELESSLIE LOST.
I sente a ringe—a little bande
Of emeraud and rubie stone
And bade it sparklinge onne thy hande,
Telle thee sweete tales of one
Whose constante memorie
Was full of loveliness and thee!
Of emeraud and rubie stone
And bade it sparklinge onne thy hande,
Telle thee sweete tales of one
Whose constante memorie
Was full of loveliness and thee!
A spelle was gravenne on its golde—
'Twas Cupide fixede without his winges;
To Helene once it would have tolde
More thanne was everre told bie ringes,
But now alle's past and gone,
Her love is buriede with thatte stone.
'Twas Cupide fixede without his winges;
To Helene once it would have tolde
More thanne was everre told bie ringes,
But now alle's past and gone,
Her love is buriede with thatte stone.
207
Thou shalt not see the teares thatte starte
From eies bie thoughtes like those beguilde,
Thou shalt not knowe the beatinge hearte,
Ever a victime ande a childe.
Yet, Helene, love—believe
The hearte thatte never could deceive.
From eies bie thoughtes like those beguilde,
Thou shalt not knowe the beatinge hearte,
Ever a victime ande a childe.
Yet, Helene, love—believe
The hearte thatte never could deceive.
I'll heare thy voice of melodie
In the sweete whisperres of the aire,
I'll see the brightnesse of thine eye
In the blue evening's dewie starre;
In chrystalle streames thy puritie,
And looke on Heavenne to look on thee.
In the sweete whisperres of the aire,
I'll see the brightnesse of thine eye
In the blue evening's dewie starre;
In chrystalle streames thy puritie,
And looke on Heavenne to look on thee.
| Poems of the late George Darley | |