Page:Fisher's drawing room scrap book; with poetical illustrations by L.E.L (1832).djvu/33




 * He cannot hear the skylark sing,
 * The music of the wild bee's wing;
 * The murmur of the plaining bough;
 * A gentle whisper fairy low;
 * The noise of falling waters near—
 * All these have left his mournful ear.
 * A sad, sad silence, whose worst power
 * Is felt in others' gladdest hour.
 * But, ah, to what can it not move
 * Th' unconquerable strength of love!
 * See how he bends above the page.
 * For him—the child of his old age.
 * The ear is deaf, the eye is dim,
 * Yet anxious and alive for him.
 * How deep and tender is the debt,
 * Whose seal on that young heart is set;
 * Little, perchance, may be the aid,
 * Not so the fondness which essayed
 * To help amid this learned coil.
 * And smooth the youthful student's toil.
 * Mid all the sorrow and the crime,
 * Man's destiny from earliest time;
 * Mid all that can debase, degrade,
 * How beautiful this earth is made,
 * By pure affection, deep and dear,
 * Affection like that pictured here!