A DOMESTIC SKETCH. 167 



She felt, supreme, the influence of Delight, 

 It fluttered with light wing around her heart, 

 As a young bird around its much-loved nest, 

 You marked its influence on the parted lips, 

 That trembled as they breathed of harmony ; 

 You saw it in the radiance of her eye 

 Where not a darkening blight of worldly care 

 Had ever cast the shadow of a gloom 

 And in whose depths of calm expression slept 

 Emotions undisturbed, unwakened yet. 



Sally was near her side, she had attained 

 The flowing symmetry and graceful form 

 Of perfect womanhood, but passing time, 

 Perhaps experience that the flower of life 

 Not always blooms a rose, had thrown a shade 

 Of pathos more subdued upon her charms 

 Than Margaret's ever knew, whose airy form 

 And smiles of more than Oreade loveliness 

 Were never dimmed by any shadowy thought 

 Of trouble that had passed, or future care ; 

 Her graces, gradual, opened into bloom 

 And fascination of maturity 

 Like Amra flowers, but, 'neath a milder sky 

 Shedding upon their colours chastened light. 

 She was happy ! if mortal ever were 

 In the delightful morn of life, whose worth, 

 Like that of radiant health is never known 

 Till we have lost it, and our pleasures droop 

 With our declining sun, as on the banks 

 Of silver Ganges, evening's paler light 

 Behold's the cistus' blossoms that at noon 

 Unfolded fairest beauty, one by one 

 Fall weak and withering off. 



The notes became 



Soft and pathetic, while the theme was changed 

 And the harmonious voice that warbled them 

 Liquidly melted to the plaintive strain 

 Falling in sweetest cadence Sally turned 

 Her eyes, with deep expressiveness suffused 

 On the fair singer, in that gentle look 

 Was meditation marked and pity too, 



