While now and then, with melting heart, she prest
Soft kisses o’er its red and smiling lips,—
Lips sweet as rosebuds in fresh beauty dressed
Ere the young murmuring bee their honey sips.
Mrs. Welby.
Oh, turn from me those radiant eyes,
With love’s dark lightning beaming,
Or veil the power that in them lies
To set the young heart dreaming.