the vacant chair.
151
The Vacant Chair.
Say, who is she with azure eye,
And cheek so warmly, softly glowing,
And hair as if the sunset's dye
Was all its brightness there bestowing;
And brow as stainless as the wreath
Of snowy flowers her head adorning,
And rose-bud lips that seem to breathe
The balmy sweets of summer morning?
And cheek so warmly, softly glowing,
And hair as if the sunset's dye
Was all its brightness there bestowing;
And brow as stainless as the wreath
Of snowy flowers her head adorning,
And rose-bud lips that seem to breathe
The balmy sweets of summer morning?
How graceful flow her swan-like dress,
And gleams beneath her scarf so thin,
A glow of healthful loveliness
In the wan rose hue of her skin,
As if the softest, slightest touch
O'er marble neck and arm were laid—
So very faint the dye, just such
As gives that lovely life warm shade.
And gleams beneath her scarf so thin,
A glow of healthful loveliness
In the wan rose hue of her skin,
As if the softest, slightest touch
O'er marble neck and arm were laid—
So very faint the dye, just such
As gives that lovely life warm shade.
Well might the eye with rapture trace
On that fair brow each guileless charm,
And linger o'er that witching face,
And o'er that bright and peerless form.
On that fair brow each guileless charm,
And linger o'er that witching face,
And o'er that bright and peerless form.
