Page:Friendship's Offering 1828.pdf/7

274 Oh! spring is beautiful as brief: The cheek forgets its rose, The colour withers from the leaf, And, worse still, I know those Who wear their outward breath and bloom, Like blossoms placed upon the tomb To hide the darkest woes. For, soon as these fair hues depart, They fade yet faster from the heart.

But thou, as yet, canst only see The festal hall, where Night Reigns, thron'd like a divinity, With incense and with light. Like music and like echo meet The harp-notes and the silvery feet, And thousand flowers unite, In gather'd beauty to declare Their soul's sweet secrets to the air.

What dost thou dream of, lovely one? Of pleasure?—Look around, Behind the veil and mask, for none Unveiled, unmask'd, are found. Mark yon fair girl: the tears have rush'd To her blue eyes, the cheek has blush’d, As with a crimson wound;— And why? your head is bound with pearls, While hers hath but its own bright curls!