valentines.
115
O, find'st thou not that envied crown
A weary weight, and chilling?
Its lonely glory, is it not
An ice-touch, heartward thrilling?
A weary weight, and chilling?
Its lonely glory, is it not
An ice-touch, heartward thrilling?
Ah, no! e'en now a rosy light
Those vernal leaves is flushing;
O woman-hearted, love's warm buds
Are 'mid thy laurels blushing!
Those vernal leaves is flushing;
O woman-hearted, love's warm buds
Are 'mid thy laurels blushing!
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg/20px-Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg.png)
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/21/Rule_Segment_-_Diamond_-_6px.svg/7px-Rule_Segment_-_Diamond_-_6px.svg.png)
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TO MR. GILES.
A classic heaven of old thy soul,—
Song, grace, and fire divine;
But the heaven of a purer faith,
That Christian heart of thine.
Song, grace, and fire divine;
But the heaven of a purer faith,
That Christian heart of thine.
Thus he who walks beside thee
Hath what employ he chooses;
May worship with the Angels,
Or converse with the Muses.
Hath what employ he chooses;
May worship with the Angels,
Or converse with the Muses.