the one dark thought.
107
Twas said the raven's wing was naught
To the dark glory of her hair,
That roses with dew freshness fraught
You scarce might to her cheek compare.
The brilliant blue of summer's sky
Beam'd glorious through her eye's dark fringe.
None match'd her form for symmetry,
Her face for loveliness of tinge.
To the dark glory of her hair,
That roses with dew freshness fraught
You scarce might to her cheek compare.
The brilliant blue of summer's sky
Beam'd glorious through her eye's dark fringe.
None match'd her form for symmetry,
Her face for loveliness of tinge.
From far-off lands were teachers brought,
To perfect her in every grace;
Wealth left no ornament unbought
To decorate her mind and face:
Accomplish'd was she named, and good.
But, ah! what in her soul had birth
(All she'd been taught, or understood),
Breath'd only of this fleeting earth!
To perfect her in every grace;
Wealth left no ornament unbought
To decorate her mind and face:
Accomplish'd was she named, and good.
But, ah! what in her soul had birth
(All she'd been taught, or understood),
Breath'd only of this fleeting earth!
The doating parent saw her child
In every elegance excel;
"To her," she said, and proudly smiled,
"I've done a parent's duty well."
But soon that mother's wail of grief
Arose where her fair idol lay,
To whom no hand could yield relief,
Nor her departing spirit stay.
In every elegance excel;
"To her," she said, and proudly smiled,
"I've done a parent's duty well."
But soon that mother's wail of grief
Arose where her fair idol lay,
To whom no hand could yield relief,
Nor her departing spirit stay.
As wildly still to life she clung,
And raved, imploring life to save—
"'Twas hard," she said, "for one so young,
To change life's pleasures for the grave.
And raved, imploring life to save—
"'Twas hard," she said, "for one so young,
To change life's pleasures for the grave.
