Thy form was fair, thine eye was bright,
Thy voice was melody;
Around thee beam’d the purest light
Of love’s own sky.
Each word that trembled on thy tongue
Was sweet, was dear to me;
A spell in those soft numbers hung
That drew my soul to thee.
Thy form, thy voice, thine eyes are now
As beauteous and as fair;
But though still blooming is thy brow,
Love is not there.
And though as sweet thy voice be yet,
I treasure not the tone;
It cannot bid my heart forget-
Its tenderness is gone!
(Louisa Stuart Costello)
More Poetry from Louisa Stuart Costello:
Louisa Stuart Costello Poems based on Topics: Love, Fairness- The Traveller in Africa (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)
- His Indian Love to Diogo Alvarez (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)
- The Hunter of the Uruguay to his Love (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)
- The Dreamer on the Sea-shore (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)
- The Destroying Spirit (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)
- Sylph's Song (Louisa Stuart Costello Poems)