Lines Written in a Lady's Album.
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Keightley, Thomas
In those blest days, when free from care And happy as the birds in air, I roamed the hills and dales, By purling rills oft passed the day, Or on green banks recumbent lay, Listening the shepherds' tales,
My fancy, rising on the wing, Would visions fair before me bring, Of castles high, and towers, With knights in radiant panoply, And ladies of the beaming eye, Within their fragrant bowers;
Or lead me thence away to shades Of woods, and show me, in the glades, The cottages serene, Where Peace dwelt with Contend, among The happy, gay Arcadian throng That tenanted the scene.
But whether cot or tower arose In vision, at the dawn or close Of summer-days, to me, The lovely form of woman still Shone bright by dale, by mead, by rill, Amid my extacy.
I saw her robed in every grace With youth, with loveliness of face, And virtue's gentle eye; And from her tongue heard accents fall, That would the rudest heart enthral, And raise emotions high.
But like the Eastern prince, who loved The pictured form of one that moved In life full many a year Ere he beheld the light, I deemed The lovely form of which I dreamed Would ne'er to me appear.
And years came on, and years went by, And yet I never found me nigh My youthful vision bright. I said,—I might as well, I ween, Expect to see the Fairy-queen Descend, to bless my sight.
But often, when we hope it least, And when our search has well nigh ceased, Good fortune will befall: So I one evening saw a maid, Who every grace and charm displayed That decked my Ideal.
Her portrait here I need not show. For, reader, thou must surely know That peerless, gentle maid: To her these lines I consecrate; And if she smiles I'll deem, elate, My toil far overpaid.