Heart of mine we love, we love her,
She is still our lady bright,
Fairest of them all we prove her
Queen of beauty as her right.
And in simple verse we tell
The praises of fair Isabel.
THOUGHTS.
I am glad when men of genius
Array a common thought,
In imperishable beauty
That it cannot be forgot.
The heart thoughts all bright and burnished
By high poetic art,
As sweet as the wood-bird's warble
Touching the very heart.
Have not I, poor workday mortal,
Some thoughts of living light,
In the spirit's inner chambers,
Moving with spirit might?
And they come in the fair spring time
Of heart and life and year,
When sweet Nature's wild rejoicings,
Draws votaries very near
To the heart of all that's lovely
On earth and in the sky;
Making audible the music
Of the inner melody.
Underlying all the sunshine,
Whispering through every breeze,
As it crests the ruffled ocean
Or sways the forest trees.
Bright thoughts that are heart prisoners
Vibrating on its chords,
For, alas! I have not genius
To bring them forth in words.
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