TO MRS. E. C. K.

———

BY MRS. S. T. MARTYN.

———

Lady, when first upon my listening ear

Thy song harmonious fell, subdued, entranced,

And spell-bound by the strain, my spirit glanced

Adown Time’s darkening track, and as it hung

Upon the magic numbers, seemed to hear

The lay that erst to Lycidas was sung,

By Siloa’s rapt bard, whose visual orbs

Were quenched in the intenser brilliancy

Of Truth’s divinest radiance, that absorbs

All lesser brightness; thus I mused of thee;

But when I saw thee, fair as Hope’s young dream,

Freshness like Morning’s on thy brow and cheek,

Through which the soul’s celestial light doth beam

As through a sculptured vase, I felt how weak

Are images of manhood’s pride and fame

That birth-right’s priceless value to proclaim,

Where genius, wit, and poesy divine,

Make woman’s heart of love their best and holiest shrine.