Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 35 1834.pdf/13



that image on a mirthful day Of youth; and sinking with a still'd surprise, The pride of life, before those holy eyes, In my quick heart died thoughtfully away, Abash'd to mute confession of a sway Awful, though meek:—and now, that from the strings Of my soul's lyre, the Tempest's mighty wings Have struck forth tones which there unwaken'd lay; Now, that around the deep life of my mind, Affections, deathless as itself, have twined, Oft doth the pale bright vision still float by; But more divinely sweet, and speaking now, Of one whose pity, throned on that sad brow, Sounded all depths of Love, Grief, Death–Humanity!