26.12.2010, 12:55
TO -
A lovely vision fading out of sight,
Pure waters fast a-draining, these may be
Apt semblance of a truth well-known to thee,
Poor pallid maid ! thou canst not reunite
Nor blend again the colours of thy heart
—
The secret nurture of a healthy mind
Will long preserve, perchance may half impart,
The cheek's pure glow, to sorrow ne'er assign'd ;
But thine is cold and pale, as might beseem
A rose-bud planted in a vase of snow.
Which droops full soon, as it did surely know
Of the thin flakes collapsing round its stem ;
Even thus thy cheek has lost its vital glow,
Because there is no source of kindly warmth below
A lovely vision fading out of sight,
Pure waters fast a-draining, these may be
Apt semblance of a truth well-known to thee,
Poor pallid maid ! thou canst not reunite
Nor blend again the colours of thy heart
—
The secret nurture of a healthy mind
Will long preserve, perchance may half impart,
The cheek's pure glow, to sorrow ne'er assign'd ;
But thine is cold and pale, as might beseem
A rose-bud planted in a vase of snow.
Which droops full soon, as it did surely know
Of the thin flakes collapsing round its stem ;
Even thus thy cheek has lost its vital glow,
Because there is no source of kindly warmth below