to anna.
167
TO ANNA,
In reply to a Letter.
Don't say you are "ugly," you darling
While still your sweet letters unfold
The same glowing soul that enliven'd
Those delicate features of old!—
While still your sweet letters unfold
The same glowing soul that enliven'd
Those delicate features of old!—
That soul, whose pure tire would illume, love,
A cheek of less exquisite mould,
With a changeable beauty and bloom, love,
To which Aphrodite's were cold.
A cheek of less exquisite mould,
With a changeable beauty and bloom, love,
To which Aphrodite's were cold.
Don't say you've grown "ugly and stupid,"
While still in each line I can trace
Some glimpse of those lovely emotions
Which once I could read in your face!
While still in each line I can trace
Some glimpse of those lovely emotions
Which once I could read in your face!
