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Literary Gazette, 11th May, 1822, Page 297
ORIGINAL POETRY.
POETIC SKETCHES.
Second Series — Sketch the Second.
THE CONTRAST.
- - - - - - And this is love:
Can you then say that love is happiness?
There were two Portraits: one was of a Girl
Just blushing into woman; it was not
A face of perfect beauty, but it had
A most bewildering smile,—there was a glance
Of such arch playfulness and innocence,
That as you looked, a pleasant feeling came
Over the heart, as when you hear a sound
Of cheerful music. Rich and glossy curls
Were bound with roses, and her sparkling eyes
Gleamed like Thalia's, when some quick device
Of mirth is in her laugh. Her light step seemed
Bounding upon the air with all the life,
The buoyant life of one untouched by sorrow. - - -
- - - There was another, drawn in after years:
The face was young still; but its happy look
Was gone, the cheek had lost its colour, and
The lip its smile,—the light that once had played
Like sunshine in those eyes, was quenched and dim,
For tears had wasted it: her long dark hair
Floated upon her forehead in loose waves
Unbraided, and upon her pale thin hand
Her head was bent, as if in pain,—no trace
Was left of that sweet gaiety which once
Seemed as grief could not darken it, as care
Would pass and leave behind no memory. - - -
There was one whom she loved undoubtingly,
As youth will ever love,—he sought her smile,
And said most gentle things, although he knew
Another had his vows.—Oh! there are some
Can trifle, in cold vanity, with all
The warm soul's precious throbs, to whom it is
A triumph that a fond devoted heart
Is breaking for them,—who can bear to call
Young flowers into beauty, and then crush them!
Affections trampled on, and hopes destroyed,
Tears wrung from very bitterness, and sighs
That waste the breath of life,—these all were her's
Whose image is before me. She had given
Life's hope to a most fragile bark, to love!
’Twas wrecked—wrecked by love's treachery: she knew,
Yet spoke not of his falsehood; but the charm
That bound her to existence was dispelled—
Her days were numbered;— She is sleeping now.
L. E. L.
