Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/To Mrs. G. W.
TO MRS. G. W.
I 'll twine for thee a minstrel wreath,And pure affection o'er it breathe;And, simple though my offering be,I 'll wake a poet's lyre for thee.
My sister!—yes, in name and heartAll which that word conveys thou art;As dear, as loved, as thou couldst beHad the same parent nurtured thee!—
I will not in these simple laysOffend thine ear with idle praise, Nor deck with hyperboles of artA playful tribute of the heart.
The brightest proof esteem suppliesOf worth from whence it must arise,And flattery grateful and most dearTo hearts like yours, is love sincere.
These both are thine, and may they blessEach coming year with happiness,And may thy fate through life be provedAs happy as thou art beloved!
Yet, as no mortal ear may meetWith bliss full, perfect, and complete,And drops imbued with bitterest gallAre mingled in the cup of all,
O, may those drops, by Heaven designedTo purify the heart and mind,Raise us above the cares of earth,And teach us things of real worth!
Make us resigned, submissive, meek,And things above desire and seek!Transformed to blessings, only proveA tender Parent's watchful love!