TO A LADY.
If souls, once more, to these their haunte on earth,
Can come, dear Lady, from the Spirit-land,
1 ask'd thee,—would it spoil thine hour of mirth.
To see some sudden shape before thee stand !
And a cold shudder told me, and thine hand
Press'd dearer to mine own. But then said 1,
Oh ! if thy friend were dead, and could command
Some midnight hour to visit thee ; reply.
Say, would it grieve thee, Love, if love could never, die!
If souls, once more, to these their haunte on earth,
Can come, dear Lady, from the Spirit-land,
1 ask'd thee,—would it spoil thine hour of mirth.
To see some sudden shape before thee stand !
And a cold shudder told me, and thine hand
Press'd dearer to mine own. But then said 1,
Oh ! if thy friend were dead, and could command
Some midnight hour to visit thee ; reply.
Say, would it grieve thee, Love, if love could never, die!
That was beautiful! I never knew you were an artist with words too! :D
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ReplyDeleteI didn't know you also did poetry, Jeremy!
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