Wakening all hearts to joy and love?
That airy form, with footsteps free,
And radiant glance—could this be she?
From her fair cheek the rose was gone,
Her eye’s blue sparkle thence had flown;
Of all its vivid glow bereft,
Each playful charm her lip had left.
But what were these? on that young face,
Far nobler beauty fill’d their place!
’Twas not the pride that scorns to bend,