Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1837.pdf/11



looketh on the glittering scene With an unquiet eye; The shadow of the wakening heart Is passing darkly by. The heart that is a woman’s world, Her temple and her home, Which coloureth with itself her cares, Whence all her joys must come.

All generous feelings nursed the love That out of pity came; Womanly kindness, suffering truth, Might sanctify its claim. But better had she shared the doom, She bade from him depart; Death has no bitterness like life, Life with a wasted heart.

Proud—beautiful—she boweth down Beneath one deep despair; Youth lingers lovely on her cheek, It only lingers there. She will command herself, and bear The doom by Fate assigned; In natures high as her's, the heart Is mastered by the mind.

But not the less ’tis desolate, All lofty thoughts and dreams; The poetry, with whose deep life All stronger feeling teems. These aggravate the ill, and give A misery of their own; The gifted spirit suffers much, To common ones unknown.