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THE LOST ONE. |
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There 's glory in the ribbon'd lightning's light, And grandeur in the thunder pealing hoarse.
0 ! get thy heart attuned to calm delight, And bid the hand of care awhile delay;
Then thou shalt see a beauty always bright, Shedding its sweetness o'er thy weary way.
April, 1643.
THE LOST ONE.
Where is my sister ? Years have pass'd
Since her light step was heard ; Since her merry tones rung joyously,
Like the notes of the singing bird.
Years have pass'd, since round the hearth,
And amid the springing flowers, We mingled together in childish mirth •
Through the long and happy hours.
Though years have pass'd, I should know her now—
That brilliant and speaking eye, The peculiar white of that polish'd brow,
That cheek of the rose-leaf's dye !
1 should know her, though when I saw her last, Her cheek was far less bright; ■
And a shade was over her features cast From her robe of spotless white.
1845. |
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