to sarah.
71
TO SARAH,
arranging her hair.
Oh, rich in heart! what matter how
The silken tresses shade your brow?
What matter, whether gem or rose,
Or simple riband wreathe your hair,
While that soft blush so purely glows,
While those dark eyes such beauty wear ?
The silken tresses shade your brow?
What matter, whether gem or rose,
Or simple riband wreathe your hair,
While that soft blush so purely glows,
While those dark eyes such beauty wear ?
No rich array could lend your form,
Thus airy-light, one added charm;
No jewel gift that girlish face
With lovelier glow or softer grace;
And he who looks on you with eyes,
Where all his soul to yours replies,
Is prouder of you simply so,
Than when adorn'd your graces glow;
And joys to know his fairy flower
Thus airy-light, one added charm;
No jewel gift that girlish face
With lovelier glow or softer grace;
And he who looks on you with eyes,
Where all his soul to yours replies,
Is prouder of you simply so,
Than when adorn'd your graces glow;
And joys to know his fairy flower
