THE IMPROVISATRICE.
79
To see the once so clear blue orb
Its summer light and warmth forget;
Darkening, beneath its tearful lid,
Like a rain-beaten violet!
To watch the banner-rose of health
Pass from the cheek!—to mark how plain,
Upon the wan and sunken brow,
Become the wanderings of each vein!
The shadowy hand, so thin, so pale!
The languid step!—the drooping head!
The long wreaths of neglected hair!
The lip, whence red and smile are fled!
And having watched thus, day by day,
Light, life, and colour, pass away!
To see, at length, the glassy eye
Fix dull in dread mortality;