98
TO MY GEORGIE.
Where thy brown wealth of waving tresses floats
In beautiful luxuriance—thy lips
Of richest coral, where a thousand smiles
Appear and flee in frolic chase, like birds
Around a sleeping lake at morning-tide—
I gaze on these, sweet cousin, and in all
I see a spirit of deep purity;
A living, breathing, glowing soul of deep
And holy purity, from which dark Vice
And Sin would cower and fly, rebuked and quelled
As by Religion's power.
In beautiful luxuriance—thy lips
Of richest coral, where a thousand smiles
Appear and flee in frolic chase, like birds
Around a sleeping lake at morning-tide—
I gaze on these, sweet cousin, and in all
I see a spirit of deep purity;
A living, breathing, glowing soul of deep
And holy purity, from which dark Vice
And Sin would cower and fly, rebuked and quelled
As by Religion's power.
My cousin dear,
Thou art a very dream of loveliness,
And beauty is thy purity. Thou art
A creature whose high soul is troubled not
With the temptations of a world of sin.
Thy gentle spirit here hath kept undimmed
The angel-charm on which our God in heaven
Set His own signet of unchanging truth.
I love thee, and I reverence thy high
Thou art a very dream of loveliness,
And beauty is thy purity. Thou art
A creature whose high soul is troubled not
With the temptations of a world of sin.
Thy gentle spirit here hath kept undimmed
The angel-charm on which our God in heaven
Set His own signet of unchanging truth.
I love thee, and I reverence thy high
