Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1837.pdf/27



looked from out the window With long and asking gaze, From the gold clear light of morning To the twilight’s purple haze. Cold and pale the planets shone, Still the girl kept gazing on. From her white and weary forehead Droopeth the dark hair, Heavy with the dews of evening, Heavier with her care; Falling as the shadows fall, Till flung round her like a pall.

When from the carved lattice First she leant to look, Her bright face was written Like some pleasant book; Her warm cheek the red air quaffed, And her eyes looked out and laughed. She is leaning back now languid And her cheek is white, Only on the drooping eyelash Glistens tearful light. Colour, sunshine hours are gone, Yet the Lady watches on.

Human heart this history Is thy fated lot, Even such thy watching For what cometh not Till with anxious waiting dull Round thee fades the beautiful. Still thou seekest on though weary, Seeking still in vain; Daylight deepens into twilight, What has been thy gain? Death and night are closing round, All that thou hast sought unfound.