136
Poems
He'd give his life for just one word with thee
Alone. His name is Raphael, and they say
He is the greatest painter of the day;
And oh! so handsome,—with such pleading eyes!
If you refuse, I'm sure the Signor dies!
Say yes; and let me with the message go!"
White are the lips that firmly answer "No."
Alone. His name is Raphael, and they say
He is the greatest painter of the day;
And oh! so handsome,—with such pleading eyes!
If you refuse, I'm sure the Signor dies!
Say yes; and let me with the message go!"
White are the lips that firmly answer "No."
"The lady Corinne waits among the rest,
And says, to speak with thee will make her blest."
After a moment's pause, as to demur,—
"The lady Corinne,—I will speak with her."
The lady Corinne watched her as she came,—
While in her heart blazed up a jealous flame;
And suddenly, within that soul was born,
For her who stood before her, hate, and scorn;—
This lowly peasant-girl, who dared to hold
The heart she could not win,—with name, and gold!
Then came the better thought; God surely laid
A heavy hand on this true heart He made,—
Had struck the straining chords to sharpest pain,—
And lo! they answered back—In sweetest strain.
And says, to speak with thee will make her blest."
After a moment's pause, as to demur,—
"The lady Corinne,—I will speak with her."
The lady Corinne watched her as she came,—
While in her heart blazed up a jealous flame;
And suddenly, within that soul was born,
For her who stood before her, hate, and scorn;—
This lowly peasant-girl, who dared to hold
The heart she could not win,—with name, and gold!
Then came the better thought; God surely laid
A heavy hand on this true heart He made,—
Had struck the straining chords to sharpest pain,—
And lo! they answered back—In sweetest strain.
"Thou Wonder!" said she, with extended hand,
And proudly-smiling lips. "In this fair land,
Where people call me queen, is there one thing
And proudly-smiling lips. "In this fair land,
Where people call me queen, is there one thing
