Does scent from bloom, or warble from the wood,
Not atmosphere the un-aerial void
Twixt thee and beauty, which thy youth enjoyed?
Fly back to earth, by memory renewed;
She fills the hollow, echoing hosts destroyed,—
With Spring, reflecting Heaven's Triumphant Good.
IN THE DIMPLE OF BEAUTY'S CHEEK
O beauty! in the dimple of thy cheek,
My love could live forever and be blest.