He knew the heart of woman well;
And he loved, in sweetest verse, to tell
Of things that were beautiful on the earth,
And his own bright thoughts oft gave them birth;
O, gifted one! may thy requiem be
Thine own strains that linger in memory!
But now, ’tis time I end my lay;
The potent spell has pass’d away;
I could not see that offering,
And not my heart’s own tribute bring