75
TO MRS. ———
I never shall forget thee—'tis a word
Thou oft must hear, for surely there be none
On whom thy wond'rous eyes have ever shone
But for a moment, or who e'er have heard
Thy voice's deep impassioned melody,
Can lose the memory of that look or tone.
But, not as these, do I say unto thee,
I never shall forget thee:—in thine eyes,
Whose light, like sunshine, makes the world rejoice,
A stream of sad and solemn splendour lies;
And there is sorrow in thy gentle voice.
Thou art not like the scenes in which I found thee,
Thou art not like the beings that surround thee;
To me, thou art a dream of hope and fear;
Yet why of fear?—oh sure! the Power that lent
Such gifts, to make thee fair, and excellent,
Still watches one whom it has deigned to bless
With such a dower of grace and loveliness;
Over the dangerous waves 'twill surely steer
Thou oft must hear, for surely there be none
On whom thy wond'rous eyes have ever shone
But for a moment, or who e'er have heard
Thy voice's deep impassioned melody,
Can lose the memory of that look or tone.
But, not as these, do I say unto thee,
I never shall forget thee:—in thine eyes,
Whose light, like sunshine, makes the world rejoice,
A stream of sad and solemn splendour lies;
And there is sorrow in thy gentle voice.
Thou art not like the scenes in which I found thee,
Thou art not like the beings that surround thee;
To me, thou art a dream of hope and fear;
Yet why of fear?—oh sure! the Power that lent
Such gifts, to make thee fair, and excellent,
Still watches one whom it has deigned to bless
With such a dower of grace and loveliness;
Over the dangerous waves 'twill surely steer
