Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 011.djvu/54
more fastidious with regard to female beauty. Six months passed away without my penning in my brain one intended love-letter, or squeezing one beauty's hand so fiercely as to give her pain, or sighing so loudly as to make her start, or pressing to my lips in the solitude of my own room one faded flower which had fallen from a lady's bosom. I began to think all danger was over for life, but, alas! I had speedily occasion to exclaim,
"Intermissa, Venus, diu
Rursus bella moves? Parce precor, precor."
E.
GERALDINE.
Art thou indeed of earth, angelic child!
Art thou indeed of earth, or hast thou left
Thy starry dwelling-place, to win all hearts
And charm all thoughts, from mortal love, to Heaven?
Thy glance hath little of mortality,
So mild, so sweet, and yet so full of light—
And in thy voice there is a melody,
That wakens most unutterable thoughts,
Such as I did not hope to feel again.
—How the blush glows in thy transparent cheek,
Thou infant virgin! as thy gentle eyes
Turn from rmyanaing th g ance their modest light.
Alas! and must it fade before the kiss,
The whitening kiss, and withering eye of Death?
Angelic child! thy beauty makes me sad:
Oh! why art thou so fleeting, and so fair,
So full of loveliness that will not last!
Alas! a few bright summers will be thine,
And thou wilt deem thy youth and joy eternal;
—But they will melt away, like morning snow,
And turn to tears,—and passions yet unborn,
And earthly grief, will dim that sunny glance,
And thoughts which are not Heaven's, will find their way
Into thy heart, all sinless as it is;
A deeper blush will stain thy conscious cheek,
And other light will kindle in thine eye,
Brighter, but not so holy; and thy heart
Will lose its blank and virgin ignorance,—
For knowledge darkens innocence, as the page
Whereon I write grows dark beneath my touch;
—And earth will cleave to earth—and thou wilt fall
Down from thy happy childhood, like a star
That could not keep its path of light, alone.
Smile on, sweet child! while innocence is thine,
And with the music of thy happy look,
That tells the harmony which is within,
Make glad the thoughts of all who gaze on thee.
—Smile on, sweet child!—may many a stainless day
Of youthful joy, and guiltless love, roll by,
Bearing thee calmly into womanhood,
As gentle rivers bear a bark to ocean
In their transparent arms!—May some bright isle,
Too bright for aught save innocence like thine,
Woo thee to rest upon its sunny bosom:
And may all hearts grow holy at thy glance,
And hail thee with pure love, as I do now!