200
TO A YOUNG LADY.
To gaze upon that eye, whose beam
Was love, and life, and light,
To mark its wild and wandering gleam
Which dazzles but to blight;
Was love, and life, and light,
To mark its wild and wandering gleam
Which dazzles but to blight;
To turn in anguish and despair
From those wild notes of sadness,
And feel that there was darkness there,
The midnight mist of madness;
From those wild notes of sadness,
And feel that there was darkness there,
The midnight mist of madness;
To start beneath the thrilling swell
Of notes still sweet, though wasted,
To mark the idol loved too well,
In all its beauty blasted;
Of notes still sweet, though wasted,
To mark the idol loved too well,
In all its beauty blasted;
O! it were better far to kneel,
In darkly brooding anguish,
Upon the graves of those we love,
Than thus to see them languish.
In darkly brooding anguish,
Upon the graves of those we love,
Than thus to see them languish.
