68
POEMS.
To One Unknown.
Although I know not who thou art,
Or if we're near, or far apart,
Thou hast completely won my heart,
My dear incognito!
And all my fancies round thee twine,
Whose footsteps seem to follow mine,
The reason why I can't divine,—
No matter where I go.
Or if we're near, or far apart,
Thou hast completely won my heart,
My dear incognito!
And all my fancies round thee twine,
Whose footsteps seem to follow mine,
The reason why I can't divine,—
No matter where I go.
If I, when care-oppressed and lone,
Discouraged by an undertone
Of sadness, not by right my own,
Could fly to one like thee,
Whatever ills might mark my lot,
I'd bear in resignation, wrought
Of hope-inspiring counsel fraught
With love and sympathy.
Discouraged by an undertone
Of sadness, not by right my own,
Could fly to one like thee,
Whatever ills might mark my lot,
I'd bear in resignation, wrought
Of hope-inspiring counsel fraught
With love and sympathy.
Oh, thought-environed mystery!
Because of my perplexity,
The day's sweet grace is lost to me;
Thou hovering entity!
Why dost thou coyly veil thy face,
And hide securely every trace
That leadeth to thy dwelling-place,
And thy identity?
Because of my perplexity,
The day's sweet grace is lost to me;
Thou hovering entity!
Why dost thou coyly veil thy face,
And hide securely every trace
That leadeth to thy dwelling-place,
And thy identity?
