4596780Poems — To a Lady recovering from SicknessLucretia Maria Davidson
TO A LADY RECOVERING FROM SICKNESS.
There is a charm in the pallid cheek,A charm which the tongue can never speak,When the hand of sickness has withered awhile,The rose which had bloomed in the rays of a smile.
There is a charm in the heavy eye,When the tear of sorrow is passing by,Like a summer shower o'er yon vault of blue,Or the violet trembling 'neath drops of dew.
It spreads around a shade as lightAs daylight blending with the night;Or 'tis like the tints of an evening sky,And soft as the breathing of sorrow's sigh.
