THE SIGH.
Reading edition
———
BY MRS. E. OAKES SMITH.
———
We meet no more in silent bower,
No more in festive hall—
Nor when comes on the twilight hour,
And night dews ’gin to fall—
The stars in quiet beauty shine,
As once they shone on high,
When all thy radiant looks were mine,
Though only now thy sigh.
Another looks within thine eyes,
So angel-like serene,
He cannot tell how softly lies
My spirit-love between—
I envy not thy hand in his,
But when I pass thee by,
For me there is enough of bliss
May I but hear thee sigh.