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FIRST LOVE.
FIRST LOVE.
IME was you heard the music of a sigh,And Love awoke, and with it Song was born,—
Song, glad as young birds carol in the morn,
And tender as the blue and brooding sky,
When all the Earth feels Spring's warm witchery
And with fresh flowers her bosom doth adorn:
Then lovers love, and cannot love forlorn,
And Love is of the gods, and cannot die.
In after years may come some 'wildering light,
Some sweet delusion followed for a space,—
Such fitful fireflies but flash through the night
And fade before the shining of that face
Which shines upon you still, in Death's despite,
Whose steadfast beauty lights till death your days.
