Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/212

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And thou—oh, thou! I sometimes fear
Wilt learn that song of Fate,
That links with every happy note
One sad and desolate;
For through the starlight of thine eyes
I see the world it hides—
That by the fountains of its song
A wild, wild spirit bides.

From where thou shinest in thy pride,
I sadly sit apart,
And gather up thy smiles to glad
My twilight gloom of heart.
I can not take from thee my eyes,
These sad prophetic eyes,
O'er which I often wish the lids
Might never, never rise.

I see thy glorious lip of red,
Thy lip of love and pride,
And in its quiver read the thought
Thy words perchance would hide;
I mark the eloquence of thy brow,
The changing of thy face;
In the soft wreathing of thine arms
I read thy spirit's grace.

O rare, pure, radiant poetess!
Thy spell of life is love!
May he who winds it with his own
Be watched by eyes above.
My thought of thee, oh! sweet young girl,
With such deep care is fraught,
That words would surely turn to tears
In mockery of that thought.