AWAY the changing seasons roll, Louisa still has all my soul, And still in torturing doubt I rove; And dare not know if fortune frown, Or if the bliss be mine to own Louisa's love. When, as the airy dance we twine, Her rosy fingers mix with mine, A wild emotion thrills my frame But oh what transports fill my mind, When by her trembling touch I find She feels the same. To banquet on her heavenly bloom With steadfast gaze, I ne'er presume, But fearful steal a side-long view, And oft, o'erwhelm'd with glad surprise, Bent on my face, I meet her eyes Of liquid blue. Confus'd we quickly look away, And seem with careless thoughts to stray, But strive to rule our eyes in vain; The truants ever turn askance, Until with sudden, timid glance, They meet again. Oh, to the winds thy sorrows give, No more in doubt, Rosario, live, But trust who sweetly whispers thee; 'Thou sighest for Louisa's arms, As soft a wish her bosom warms, 'Tis sympathy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON WORDSWORTH by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE ANDRE'S LAST REQUEST [OR, REQUEST TO WASHINGTON] [OCTOBER 1, 1780] by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 51. ASH-SHAHID by EDWIN ARNOLD A COUNTRY NOSEGAY by ALFRED AUSTIN LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY - 1918 by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS STANZAS SELECTED FROM THE PAINS OR MEMORY; A FRAGMENT by BERNARD BARTON THE FOURE MONARCHIES: ASSYRIAN. SEMIRAMIS by ANNE BRADSTREET |