O STRANGE sweet loveliness! O tender grace, That in the light of passion's dayspring threw Soft splendor on a fair familiar face, Changing it, yet unchanged and old, yet new! Perfect the portrait in my heart, and true, Which traced the smile about the flower-like mouth, And those gray eyes with just a doubt of blue, Yet darkened with the passion of the South. And the white arch of thoughtful forehead crowned With meeting waves of hair; -- but still I found Some undreamt light of tenderness that fell From the new dawn, and made more fair to see What was so fair, that now no song can tell How lovely seemed thy love-lit face to me. |