102
TO A LADY.1834.
What sweetness, gentleness, what love
In that calm face appears,
And lofty thought, that soars above
This darksome vale of tears!
In that calm face appears,
And lofty thought, that soars above
This darksome vale of tears!
On thy blest soul, refined and pure,
What heavenly beauties rise!
And, with sublime attraction, lure
Thy spirit to the skies.
What heavenly beauties rise!
And, with sublime attraction, lure
Thy spirit to the skies.
O blessed friend, supremely blest,—
What sacred joys are thine,
Of nature's noblest gifts possessed
And crowned with grace divine!
What sacred joys are thine,
Of nature's noblest gifts possessed
And crowned with grace divine!
O will that gentle spirit deign
To think on one forlorn,
Whose soul the bitterness of pain
Through hopeless years hath borne?
To think on one forlorn,
Whose soul the bitterness of pain
Through hopeless years hath borne?
O may this stricken child of grief
Still claim thee for a friend?
That thought a balmy, blest relief
With sorrows deep shall blend.
Still claim thee for a friend?
That thought a balmy, blest relief
With sorrows deep shall blend.
Thy sympathizing accents oft,
In the lone hours of night,
In the lone hours of night,
