VALENTINE, BY AN AGED LOVER. SOME ladies like a man whose hair Some the dark youth and some the fair, My locks were jetty black in May, "Twere vain to say thou wilt be free To merry be or grave; Better an old man's darling be, Than be a young man's slave. "Twere vain to talk of common sense, And lessons of experience; For tears that in the dim eye shine, And trace the wrinkle's furrowed line, Were never shed by winsome valentine. LINES. IF I were young as I have been, As the dew of the morning bestars every blade, But ere noon is no more on the plain, Yet abides in the bell of the flower in the shade So the feelings of youth, the fond faith of the heart, Oh! let them survive in the soul's better part, NEVER till now I felt myself so old As seeing you so tall, such bursting roses Just at the time when rosy buds unfold Their sweet concealment into summer posies. So may I measure time, nor cease to see His silent work in still maturing graces. I quite forgive what he has done to me, For what he has bestow'd on your sweet faces. TO A FRIEND LEAVING GRASMERE. SWEET Grasmere vale, though I must leave To glad thy winsome daughters, Yet will I fondly think of thee, And thy fair maids will think of me, When I am far away. I think of thee, but 'tis a thought That has no touch of sadness; I joy to think that I have brought Such thoughts I fain would leave behind To maidens that are fair and kind, When I am far away. SONG. HAVE you seen the stars at morning, How they blend with rising day, Paling still and still adorning All the morn with their decay. Paling, blinking, Coyly winking, While the gold usurps the grey. So with fancies of the heathen, Stars of warning Melt in morning, End their task and bid good night. |