Jump to content

Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/333

From Wikisource
This page has been validated.

207

My humbler offering she took,
Red, trembling, as in scorn,
Nor deigned vouchsafe me e'en a look—
And 'twas her birth-day morn!


Oh! had her angel eye the power
To kill, or turn to stone,
I'd better borne such glance that hour
Than that averted one.


And forth I wandered—and I vowed
My fond wild dream was o'er;—
I would but mingle in the crowd
And gaze on her once more.


******


It was the evening of that day,
That day when laughter glad
Rang out, mid dance and mirthful play,
From some—while I was sad.


'Twas evening, and the crowded hall
Mocked the less dazzling day;
And rainbow-like the hues that all
Shone in that festal ray.