POEMS.
107
THE ANCIENT MIRROR.
There hung an ancient mirror
Within a stately hall,
And many a year had pass'd since first
It graced the pictured wall;
And eyes that once with glances bright,
Had gazed its face upon,
Shone forth no more like stars of night,
Their light was quenched and gone.
Within a stately hall,
And many a year had pass'd since first
It graced the pictured wall;
And eyes that once with glances bright,
Had gazed its face upon,
Shone forth no more like stars of night,
Their light was quenched and gone.
Oh! sadly yearned the mirror
For the graceful forms of yore,
That came with hooded hawk on wrist,
To gladden it no more.
Its princely home was desolate,
And passing to decay;
While echoless beside the gate,
The Warder's bugle lay.
For the graceful forms of yore,
That came with hooded hawk on wrist,
To gladden it no more.
Its princely home was desolate,
And passing to decay;
While echoless beside the gate,
The Warder's bugle lay.
Yet once a lovely child there came,
Who laughed with joyous glee,
Within its wrought and gorgeous frame,
Her sunny face to see;
Who laughed with joyous glee,
Within its wrought and gorgeous frame,
Her sunny face to see;
