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33
MRS. WOMBWELL.
BY L. E. L.
Ah, Beauty! what a charm hast thou!
How much art thou allied
To all the visionary glow
With which is deified
The sweetest things of life's dark stream;
Whose loveliness is half a dream—
A flower upon the tide;
Within whose haunted leaves up-curled
Are hints of a diviner world!
I never saw that face till now,
I never heard the name;
Yet, with that carved and graceful brow
A thousand fancies came.
Within those soft and earnest eyes
A world of hidden feeling lies;
Those feelings which, like flame,
Upon the face they kindle, write
In lines, half shadow and half light.
