TO A LOVELY GIRL.
Thou art not beautiful, yet thy young face
Makes up in sweetness, what it lacks in grace;
Thou art not beautiful, yet thy blue eyes
Steal o'er the heart like sunshine o'er the skies;
Theirs is the mild and intellectual ray,
That to the inmost spirit wins its way;
Theirs are the beams, that full upon you roll,
Surprising all the senses and the soul;
For O, when, pure as heaven's serenest skies,
Thy timid soul sits pleading in thine eyes,
The humid beams that 'neath thine eyelids steal
Can softly teach the coldest heart to feel;
For Heaven, that gives to thee each mental grace,
Hath stamped the angel on thy sweet young face.
O! while the pearl of peace securely dwells
Deep in thy tender heart's ambrosial cells,
While virtue sheds around thy virgin name
A light more lovely than the light of fame,
Thy sweet simplicity, thy graceful ease,
Shall please even more than beauty e'er can please;
Thy heart of softness and thy soul refined
Shall charm and win the most fastidious mind;
Makes up in sweetness, what it lacks in grace;
Thou art not beautiful, yet thy blue eyes
Steal o'er the heart like sunshine o'er the skies;
Theirs is the mild and intellectual ray,
That to the inmost spirit wins its way;
Theirs are the beams, that full upon you roll,
Surprising all the senses and the soul;
For O, when, pure as heaven's serenest skies,
Thy timid soul sits pleading in thine eyes,
The humid beams that 'neath thine eyelids steal
Can softly teach the coldest heart to feel;
For Heaven, that gives to thee each mental grace,
Hath stamped the angel on thy sweet young face.
O! while the pearl of peace securely dwells
Deep in thy tender heart's ambrosial cells,
While virtue sheds around thy virgin name
A light more lovely than the light of fame,
Thy sweet simplicity, thy graceful ease,
Shall please even more than beauty e'er can please;
Thy heart of softness and thy soul refined
Shall charm and win the most fastidious mind;
