| How beautiful, fair girl, art thou, All robed in innocence and truth! Upon thy calm and snowy brow, Beam, like a crown, the smiles of youth; Heaven's sunshine falls and lights thy way, As one too pure and bright for sorrow— And virtue's soft and seraph ray Flings lustre on thy dawning morrow,— Giving a promise, that thy life Will ever be, with pleasure, rife! Upon those dark, bright eyes of thine, That soft, like moonlit waters, beam, I love to gaze, and, as they shine, Of those ethereal beings dream, That oft, on us, have smiled, in sleep, Then quickly flown, and made us weep, That e'er to man, so much of heaven Should just be shown,—ah! never given! How soft the rose upon thy cheek, Blent with the lily's milder hue, Whose mingling tints of beauty speak A sinless spirit—calm and true!— The smile, that wreathes thy rosy lip, Is young affection's radiant token— Beauty and Truth in fellowship!— The symbol of a heart unbroken; Within thy bosom, holy thought, As in a temple, hath its shrine, Refulgent with a glory caught From the pure presence of thy mind, Whose lustre flings a hallowing ray, Around thee, calm as orient day! Oh! may thy life be ever bright, As aught thine early dreams have framed, And not a shadow dim its light, Till heaven, in mercy, shall have claim'd Thee, as a being fit for naught That earth can boast, all sorrow-fraught As are its brightest visions. May Thy life be one long dream of love, Unbroken 'til the final day, When heaven shall waft thy soul above, And crown thee, as an angel there, Who wast indeed an angel here! |
A. B. M.
Tuscaloosa, Alabama.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
LINES IN AN ALBUM.
| As sets the sun upon the wave, At twilight, when the day is done, Casting a glory round his grave, That lingers, though his race be run;— A glory, that attracts the gaze Of many a bright, uplifted eye, Leading the spirit, where his rays Blend with the quiet, azure sky, Till evening's star, with diamond beam, Mirrors his last effulgent gleam;— So I would now, upon this page, At parting, this memorial leave, O'er which, perhaps, in after age, Some pensive eye may kindly grieve, And mourn the loss of him, who though His life was all unknown to fame, Left still behind a feeble glow, Hallowing, in friendship's sky, his name,— A light, that, like a star, will beam, Long, long, he trusts, in memory's dream! * * * * * And now my wish for happiness To thee, I mingle with mine own,— A wish—a prayer, that heaven may bless, And keep thee, kind and gentle one, Free from all sorrow, care and strife,— A being far too pure and bright To wander 'mid the storms of life, That dim affection's vestal light,— A seraph form'd like those above, For only joy, and peace, and love! I need not tell thee, time can ne'er Thy name from memory's tablet blot, For thou art to my heart too dear, To wrong its worship, by the thought; No! though the world may sorrow bring, And bear thee far away from me, It from remembrance ne'er can wring The thoughts, that aye will turn to thee, As Chaldea's maiden to the star, She worships in its sphere afar! |
A. B. M.
Tuscaloosa, Alabama.