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A LOVERS PICTURE
My love is young, and mild, and fair
As morning soft, as light as air,
When o'er the fragrance-teeming mead
The zephyr's balms their influence shed.
The blue and beauty of her eyes
I dare not, cannot tell.
Their charm unmatched my tale belies,
Oh, sweet their lustre's spell!
My love is loving, artless, true;
Her words are scant, her glances few;
Like fairy music on the sense
Those glances' thrilling influence;
And fair as budding lily's glow,
Just opening to the light,
Her spotless skin, surpassing snow.
Transparent, lustrous, white.
