THE FAIRY’S SEARCH 
25 
But o’er this mirror of his soul 
He cannot hold such high control ; 
This spurns all power that would subdue 
And speaks in accents ever true ! 
And now, if we can read aright 
The language in those eyes so bright., 
How sad are its revealings ! 
How much it tells of grief and gloom, 
Of buried hopes and blighted feelings 
And joys that never more can bloom. 
See, how intense and wild her gaze, 
As if some sight of dread amaze 
Woke horror in her soul; 
How pales and glows her brow by turns; 
How wilder still her eye-beam burns ; 
How heaves her breast with deep drawn sighs 
Like waves when angry winds arise ; 
How moves her pallid lip, as though 
It fain would breathe a wail of woe. 
What moves her thus ? those Roses fair 
So wildly scatter’d round her there l 
Aye, they can well reveal the cause 
Of her sad brow and earnest gaze, 
For they have power to hid her pause 
In sin and guilt’s unholy ways. 
She reads within those stainless things 
A moral lesson, pure and true, 
Which, to her darken’d spirit, brings 
Thoughts of a better, brighter hue. 
Visions of peace and hope and youth 
Pass o’er the mirror of her mind, 
Recalling friendships lit by truth 
