CRUCE AND CORONA.
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I'm old, as thou dost see, and growing blind;And when not many suns shall rise and set,The light of earth shall visit me no more."
Upon the pilgrim doth Corona gazeWith reverence; and in his presence nowShe seemeth to herself a child again.And, with this touching thought within her soul,—He's growing blind, and that his aged eyes,To which the sunlight soon shall come no more,May view my soul's creations, he hath come,—She in a low and rev'rent tone doth say,"O rev'rend friend! I gladly greet thee here."
The sunlight soft and beautiful illumesEach picture round with radiance brightly sweet.
The old man moves among them; and his soul,While gazing, in its inmost depths receivesTheir all of beauty and sublimity.
He pauses now before the pictured scenesOf that bright vision which Corona's soulReceived when in her far-off island home;And in his soul there comes a happy glowLike youth's enthusiasm; and a smileLike that which springs from hope is on his lips.
