Hartley Coleridge.
1796-1849
SHE is not fair to outward view As many maidens be, Her loveliness I never knew Until she
smiled on me; O, then I saw her eye was bright, A well of love, a spring of light!
But now her looks are coy and cold, To mine they neer reply, And yet I cease not to behold The
love-light in her eye: Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other maidens are.
SHE passd away like morning dew Before the sun was high; So brief her time, she scarcely
knew The meaning of a sigh.
As round the rose its soft perfume, Sweet love around her floated; Admired she grewwhile
mortal doom Crept on, unfeard, unnoted.
Love was her guardian Angel here, But Love to Death resignd her; Tho Love was kind, why
should we fear But holy Death is kinder?
WHEN we were idlers with the loitering rills, The need of human love we little noted: Our love
was nature; and the peace that floated On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills, To sweet accord subdued
our wayward wills: One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted, That, wisely doting, askd not why
it doted, And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills. But now I find how dear thou wert to me; That
man is more than half of natures treasure, Of that fair beauty which no eye can see, Of that sweet music
which no ear can measure; And now the streams may sing for others pleasure, The hills sleep on in their
eternity.
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