HER EXEMPTION FROM THE COMMON ASPECTS OF DECAY.
O HEART of grace, that, like the lowly flowers,
Bendest beneath the storms, but dost not break,
Whom in thy tears kind thoughts do not forsake,
As blessed odors live in thunder-showers ;
Whether the sun shines forth, or tempest lowers,
Thou art unshaken. In thine utmost need,
While iron pride is shattered like a reed,
Thy wingéd hopes fly onward with the hours.
Therefore thine eye through mist of many days
Shines bright; and beauty, like a lingering rose,
Sits on thy cheek, and in thy laughter plays,
While wintry frosts have fallen on thy foes;
And like a vale that breathes the western sky,
Thy heart is green, though summer is gone by.
A WISH FOR HER DURING THE REMAINDER OF HER LIFE.
WHATEVER be my lot, I pray that thou
Mayst see a cloudless autumn of thy years,
Whose summer-tide hath been o'ercast with tears; Though like the clouds, that vainly overflow
The deep clear sky, they have not dimmed thy brow,
Or darkened the quick flame of liberty
Lit in that eye, which fashioned it and thee.
Be thine a vale where western breezes blow
The livelong year, where thou mayst walk at even
'Mid cherished flowers along a garden slope,
And breathe in peace the purity of heaven,
And turn unto the sun with eyes of hope,
With sweet birds every morn to make thee cheer,
And sound of living waters in thine ear.
REASONS FOR BEING BELOVED.
THE reason why we love thee, dost thou ask?
We love for many reasons joined in one:
Because thy face is fair to look upon;
Because, when pains or toils our hearts o'ertask,
In sunny smiles of thine they love to bask;
Because thou honorest all, and harmest none;
Because thy froward moods so soon are gone;
Thy many faults and foibles wear no mask;
Because thou art a woman.
Unto me
A gracious woman is a child mature;
Docile, and gentle, though with many a lure
Enriched, and, in a soft subjection, free;
A sanguine creature, full of winning ways;
Athirst for love, and shyly pleased with praise.
REQUESTING TO BE JUDGED BY THE DESIRE, AND NOT BY THE DESERT.
(Headed by the Author, “A Poet to a Painter.")
THAT Which my fault has made me, O paint not:
Paint me as that which I desire to be.
The unaccomplished good that died in thought,
Deep buried in my heart, seek out, set free;
And all I might have been concede to me :
The veil my error and the world have wrought,
Remove the cloud disperse : erase the blot :
Bid from my brow the temporal darkness flee.
In that celestial and pure fount, whereof
Some drops affused my childhood, bathe me wholly ;
And shield me from my own deserts: lest they
Who now but see me by the light of love,
A sterner insight learn from thee one day;
And love pass from them, like some outworn folly.
(Entitled by the Author, "Incompatibility.")
FORGIVE me that I love you as I do,
Friend patient long; too patient to reprove
The inconvenience of superfluous love.
You feel that it molests you, and 't is true.
In a light bark you sit, with a full crew;
Your life, full-orbed, compelled strange love to meet,
Becomes, by such addition, incomplete.
Because I love, I leave you. O, adieu!
Perhaps when I am gone the thought of me
May sometimes be your àcceptable guest.
Indeed you love me : but my company
Old time makes tedious; and to part is best.
Not without Nature's will are natures wed:
O gentle Death, how dear thou mak'st the dead!
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