Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH,
Thou comest a refreshing breath
From meadows green, where morning stays,
To those who bear the noon-tide blaze.
Elizabeth,
Thou couldst look in the eyes of Death,
Undaunted, did he promise thee
Some bright new scene of mirth or glee.
I cannot think that time will gray
That sun-bright head, nor bear away
One dimple in those rose-cheeks hid;
Sure he were daring if he did.