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valentines.
TO G. H. C.
As Linnæus wrote his name in flowers,
Thus, Artist, shall it ever be
That lily brows, carnation cheeks,
And rose-bud lips shall speak of thee!
As students of the stars have written
Their names upon the midnight skies,
Thus thou thy living name hast traced
On beauty's heaven, in starry eyes!
Thus, Artist, shall it ever be
That lily brows, carnation cheeks,
And rose-bud lips shall speak of thee!
As students of the stars have written
Their names upon the midnight skies,
Thus thou thy living name hast traced
On beauty's heaven, in starry eyes!
TO MR. INMAN.
Moore tells us, in his dulcet lays,
A damsel, in the good old days,
Fell most imprudently in love
With some stray seraph from above;
And once—so runs the tragic story—
This youth revealed his perfect glory,
Which, bursting forth in lurid flashes,
Consumed that beauteous maid to ashes!
A damsel, in the good old days,
Fell most imprudently in love
With some stray seraph from above;
And once—so runs the tragic story—
This youth revealed his perfect glory,
Which, bursting forth in lurid flashes,
Consumed that beauteous maid to ashes!
There was a maid of modern times,
Who warning took from these sad rhymes,
Who warning took from these sad rhymes,
