80
TO ESTELLE.
"No, the eye of friendship may not rend
All that the heart contains,
Its wealth of love, its tenderness,
Its pleasures, and its pains.
Estelle.
All that the heart contains,
Its wealth of love, its tenderness,
Its pleasures, and its pains.
Estelle.
And say'st thou so, my gentle friend?
And dost thou deem, indeed,
Thy poet-heart a secret page,
Which none beside may read?
It may be so with many a one
Who idly scans the leaf,
They may not guess how pure its joy,
How deep its inmost grief,—
And dost thou deem, indeed,
Thy poet-heart a secret page,
Which none beside may read?
It may be so with many a one
Who idly scans the leaf,
They may not guess how pure its joy,
How deep its inmost grief,—
