Page:Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume III 1833.pdf/3



Thy crimson by the lip whence life's quick blood was flying.

In its embracing links, the lovely to detain.

At variance with a world of sorrows and farewells!

Have they no place but here, beneath th' o'ershadowing tomb?

Of thy consummate form, melting to softer grace!

In spirit-lustre clothed, transcendantly more fair?

Darkening thine earthly bowers, O bridal, royal Rose!