TO CORDELIA.
BY JOHN J. BAILEY.
Smile not, sweet girl, 'tis even so— Cordelia, smile not unbelieving; My words, though not so sweet, I know, As thine, were never so deceiving.
And if I must be sworn to prove That I have said sincerely, thereby, I'd choose thy brow, so formed for love, To be the book I'd kissing swear by.
Nay, look not angry thus, 'tis vain— I value not thy frowns a feather— 'Tis not thy nature to retain An unkind thought for hours together.
I envy not thy lover's joys, Nor flattering smiles that so endear them; Thy brittle chains caprice destroys; Oh! who on earth would wish to wear them?
Yes! I could give thee many a name Of those who've waked thy tender bosom; A flame succeeding still to flame, Yet thou wert e'er content to lose 'em.
Content to wound that bosom too, That had for years, unchanged, ador'd thee; Oh! when thou held'st a heart so true, What joy could ranging thus afford thee?
I trust an angel's form thou'lt wear E'er I ascend to yonder Heaven; Or I a tale could give in there, Would leave thee lost and unforgiven.