To Agatha.

Lady !  when summer’s fondest smiles are shed1
                           
                           On all that lives beneath their cheering ray,2
                           
                           We fondly deem those smiles from heaven stray3
                           
                           To tell of love, in that blest region bred.4
                           And I have thought the smiles of those blue eyes5
                           
                           Told of the love concealed within thy breast
                                  :6
                           
                           Yes !  on so slight a dream my hopes still rest
                                  !7
                           
                           Could I but join the fairy train that flies8
                           Athwart thy brow, when, in sweet reverie,9
                           
                           Thou paint’st a joyous future, where is seen10
                           
                           Thine heart’s best idol, then—then might I glean11
                           
                           The secret of thy soul, and haply see12
                           All Fancy weaves, when on that brow I trace13
                           
                           Those smiles, nor weal nor woe from memory 
shall efface.14
                           shall efface.14