XIV. A COMPLAINT. THERE is a change — and I am poor; What happy moments did I count ! A Well of love - it may be deep- Such change, and at the very door Of my fond Heart, hath made me poor. ΤΟ XV. LET other Bards of Angels sing, Such if thou wert in all men's view, A universal show, What would my Fancy have to do, The world denies that Thou art fair; So, Mary, let it be If nought in loveliness compare With what thou art to me. True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the Lover is beloved. XVI. How rich that forehead's calm expanse ! How bright that Heaven-directed glance ! Waft her to Glory, winged Powers, Ere Sorrow be renewed, And intercourse with mortal hours So looked Cecilia when she drew An Angel from his station; So looked-not ceasing to pursue But hand and voice alike are still; That rose, and now forgets to rise, Subdued by breathless harmonies Mute strains from worlds beyond the skies, Through the pure light of female eyes To XVII. O DEARER far than light and life are dear, Misgivings, hard to vanquish or control, Mix with the day, and cross the hour of rest; If a faint sigh, not meant for human ear, Peace settles where the Intellect is meek, And Love is dutiful in thought and deed; Through Thee communion with that Love I seek; XVIII. LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE EVE OF A NEW YEAR. "Smile of the Moon! - for so I name A gentle flash of light that came Thou that didst part the clouds of earth, "Bright boon of pitying Heaven-alas! |