THE QUEEN OF THE WOODS.

MY “LIDA.”

———

BY “L’INCONNUE.”

———

The spring-time is waking to beauty and bloom,

The storm-clouds are breaking, and bright through the gloom

The blue heaven flashes like gleams of thine eye,

Through the dark silken lashes, which deepen its dye,

’Tis a glance full of tenderness, blended with pride,

Like thine own azure eye-beam, my sweet sister Lide!

The rose-buds are sleeping—but odors around

Tell of hyacinths peeping from yon grassy mound;

And the peach-bloom is blushing like cloudlets at even,

When the sunset is flushing the calm summer heaven,

And I dream as its leaflets float down at my side

Of the rose-tinted cheek of my sweet sister Lide.

The south wind is blowing, and up from the wood,

Where the streamlet is flowing, in charmed solitude,

Swells in low, liquid numbers the waterfall’s song,

As its chanting wave slumbers, or dashes along;

And the clear silvery tone of that murmuring tide

Seems the love-laden voice of my sweet sister Lide.

The soft stars are twinkling in beauty above,

And the dew-drops besprinkling their blossoms of love,

While a fresh, balmy breathing of spring-tide’s perfume

O’er my free soul is wreathing that delicate bloom,

Which glows o’er the beautiful feelings that glide

Through the pure angel-heart of my sweet sister Lide.

There’s a charm in the far gleam of waves on the sea,

And a spell in the star-beam that whispers of thee;

But as gay hours in fleeting new blushes of Spring

To this wild bosom’s beating in loveliness bring,

So its soft feelings deepen to glorious pride

When it dreams of its angel, my sweet sister Lide.

The world thinks us lonely—’tis true we’re alone,

Not as twin-spirits only—our hearts are but one —

With no parent, no brother, no glad, happy home,

We’re the world to each other, wherever we roam,

And my young life glides onward like spring’s sunny tide

When I dwell with “mine own one”—my “love of a Lide!”

Memphis, 1850.