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On her drooping eyelids,
Tempering the light
Close thine arms around her
Feel her dear heart beat, Whilst her beauty's halo
Sheds its incense sweet. Now swan necks entwining,
Kiss her white throat
"'Tis time, dear love, to go.”
CARTE DE VISITE.
PHOTOGRAPHED IN 1860.
Throwing half shadow a black lace fall;
On notes of ivory evenly small.
With a wet coral freshness pleasant to see,
In joyous welcomings winning and free.
Expressively, carefully laid in your own,
To a heart beating under a maiden zone.
Only a kiss !
One among many,
Requested and prized; denied and despised.
Here and there cometh one
In a desert of dearth.
Oh! Youth who did crave it! Oh! Damsel who gave it, in pure love up-springing:
To memory clinging,
Like wind of the South
In orient bowers,
Touches lightly the mouth.
One ere the maiden is led to the altar;
In accents that falter;
Tear dew-drops are falling.
So faintly caressing:
Yet only a kiss ! One among millions
To some unknown sbore;
Till time is no more.
Una Giustificazione. O love beloved in early days !
Love of our inmost heart the core. What says the Master in his lays ?
True love is love for evermore ! Bee busy garnering of the past,
Sweet golden feast of memory's store : A store that after death shall last,
For love is love for evermore !
By Time's dark tempests' hurrying roar : The shatter'd leaves on Earth lie pale;
In Heaven is love for evermore ! Love changes like those leaflets blue
That once the maid's fond bosom wore : Now withered forms, devoid of hue,
Yet holy deemed for evermore! I could not cast the flowers away,
So dearly prized leng years before : Their withered blossoms seemed to say
True love is love for evermore!
A CONSOLATION VALENTINE. Dream of the sunny hours !
List not to the cold winds moan; As the falling dying embers
Drop on the warm hearth stone.
The oxlip fades;
In greensward glades
In dusky nooks,
With sideward looks
Yet once May broke
Till angry spoke
Dark loomed the hills ; Dull leaden clouds burst into stormy rain; And Winter dragged back poor drenched May again.
With shivering ohills, Killing the sweet wild flowers that decked her paths in vain.
And yet again
While rose the strain Of lavrocks soaring where gorse gleams with honied gold.
the slope Of steep and rugged banks, by ocean's stream, Where those deep yellow blossoms deepest gleam ;
Like stars of hope That watch at early morn the first bright orient beam.
Those happy hours ! May played around the cliff that Shakespear crowned
With echo never dying ; where the mound
Of Dover towers,
So fresh, so fair!
That fans her hair And winds about her heart an incense breathing charm !
While freshly plays
On sea and shore
And woke the roar That warns the nightly watch when angry storm waves rise.
The shingled beach,
The Petrels' screech
In mute despair
No hope was there,
At length the sun,
On fallows dun;