88
LINES ON
I saw thy cheek when 'twas fresh as spring,
Like a May rose newly blossoming;
When thy lip was red as the coral flower,—
Stainless and pure in the deep sea bower.
I saw thy brow when 'twas gay and fair—
Sorrow had then thrown no shadow there;
It was a sweet, a beautiful throne,
That love himself had been proud to own.
