64 LOVE’S T O K E N - F L O W E R S. 
Nor that on thy sweet lip tne glow 
Was joyous as the morning ray ; 
No—though I saw thee fairest far, 
The sun that hid each meaner star ; 
Yet ’t.was not beauty taught me first 
The love that silent tears have nursed. 
Nor was it that thine every word 
With stores of mental wealth was fraught, 
With eloquence each heart that stirred, 
With deepest feeling, holiest thought; 
Nor thy rich voice, whose ’witching spell 
» Like music on my spirit fell, 
Sweet as the notes the bugle-horn 
Breathes when o’er moonlit waters borne. 
But I beheld the darkening stain 
Of sorrow cloud thy beaming eye— 
I heard thy bosom’s secret pain 
Find utterance in the struggling sigh ; 
And, like some lone neglected lute, 
My young heart’s sweetest chords were mute : 
No hand bad ever touched its strings, 
To wake its blissful murmurings — 
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