Literary Gazette, 16th August 1823, Page 524
They say there is a destiny in love:
'Twas so with Isabel. Some one had breathed
The secret cause that turned her from the world;
She had been loved although she knew it not,
And vow and veil of the dark convent cell
Were changed for bridal ones.
Alas, the vanity of these warm feelings!
A little while, and hers was happiness;
But this low grave, where rests the broken heart,
May tell how short it was. The heart which made
A world itself of visionary hopes,
Might never bear the chill realities,
All that affection has to learn and brook
When its first colouring is departed. Love,
I can but liken thee to the red bloom
Upon the apple,—making the outside bright,
But reaching not the core! L. E. L.