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STANZAS TO A LADY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The rose that deck'd thy cheek is dead
Last Line: But now, -- a thing that we adore!


THE rose that deck'd thy cheek is dead,
The ruby from thy lip has fled,
Thy brow has lost its gladness;
And the pure smiles that used to play
So brightly there, have pass'd away
Before the touch of sadness! --
Yet sorrow's shadows o'er thy face
Have wander'd with a mellowing grace.

And grief has given to thine eye
A beauty, such as yonder sky
Receives, when daylight's splendour
Fades in the holy twilight hour,
Whose magic hangs on every flower
A bloom more pure and tender;
When angels walk the quiet even,
On messages of love from heaven!

Thy low sweet voice, in every word,
Breathes -- like soft music far-off heard --
The soul of melancholy!
And oh! to listen to thy sigh!
The evening gale that wanders by
The rose is not so holy!
But none may know the thoughts that rest
In the deep silence of thy breast!

For oh! thou art, to mortal eyes,
Like some pure spirit of the skies,
Awhile to bless us given;
And sadly pining for the day,
To spread thy wings, and flee away,
Back to thy native heaven!
Thou wert beloved by all before,
But now, -- a thing that we adore!





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