Poems (Taggart)/To Mrs. R———
TO MRS. R.———1826.
Where is that smile of sparkling light That played o'er thy fair brow?The radiance of the heart's delight,— In vain we seek it now.
When life's bright morn unfolding bloomed, Luxuriant to the view,Then fancy every scene illumed, With rapture ever new.
While pure as morn's first orient dawn Thy gentle virtues glowed,And, soft as shades of eve advance, Thy placid minutes flowed.
Thy modest look and playful air Of innocence and ease—A winning native grace was there, That taught each word to please.
While the rich music of thy voice, In soft endearing tone,Could bid the care-worn heart rejoice, And hope's sweet influence own.
Those dark and beaming eyes confessed The mind's refulgent power,And placid joy, thy spirit's guest, Gilded each passing hour.
Though fled the bright and transient gleam Of beauty's early grace,That, playing o'er each feature, beamed With magic loveliness;—
Though dim the radiance of that glance,— Its lambent brightness flown;—Tho' changed the smile where pleasure danced, Or mild contentment shone,—
Far deeper thoughts and richer themes Now shade that polished brow;Maternal love's soft, gentle beams O'er those fair features glow.
And oft that pallid brow is pressed, As anxious cares arise,While, pillowed on thy gentle breast, Thine infant placid lies;
Or sports in pleasing playfulness, Pure as the opening skies,—And bright, with untold happiness, Its pleasure-beaming eyes.
While from the soul affection pure Glows o'er that faded cheek,And virtues, which the heart allure, Thine aspect mild bespeak.
Though fled the early grace which twined Around that blooming form,The virtues of the fadeless mind Yield a diviner charm.
Though cares which age alone can bring, May those bright beauties shade,Still in thy heart, affection's spring, Are joys that never fade.
When thy loved infant's opening powers Disclose the dawning mind,What pleasure cheers the lonely hours, With hope's bright garlands twined!
And when its first soft accents breathed Its uttered love to thee,What visions thy fond fancy wreathed Of peace and purity!
Its blooming aspect bright with bliss, The music of its voice,The fragrance of its rosy kiss A mother's heart rejoice.
A wayward tone, a want expressed, Engage thy tender care,And, soothed upon thy gentle breast, It sweetly slumbers there.
Then those mild eyes with pleasure greet Its precious little form,And, gazing on its aspect sweet, Observe each varying charm.
The sire, with sweet affection mild, Surveys the pleasing sight,And gazes on his blooming child, Rapt in a new delight:
His fancy paints its future form, Its mind's expanded powers,And, with parental ardor warm, Gilds all its coming hours.
How pure the joys where hearts unite And minds congenial join,—In sweet affection's power delight, And own its source divine!
Thus may thy moments sweetly flow With him, thy chosen friend,And both, with your loved offspring, know The bliss that shall not end.