eath,
A Traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.

_A Phantom of Delight._

She was happy,
Like a spirit of air she moved,
Wayward, yet by all who knew her
For her tender heart beloved.

_The Westmoreland Girl._

This light-hearted Maiden....
High is her aim as Heaven above,
And wide as either her good-will;
And, like the lowly reed, her love
Can drink its nurture from the scantiest rill;
Insight as keen as frosty star
Is to her charity no bar,
Nor interrupts her frolic graces.

_The Triad._

O Lady bright,
Whose mortal lineaments seem all refined
By favouring Nature, and a saintly mind,
To something purer and more exquisite
Than flesh and blood!

_Sonnet._

A maid whom there wore none to praise
And very few to love;
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star when only one
Is shining in the sky.

_Poems of the Affections, 8._

Whether in the semblance drest
Of Dawn, or Eve, fair vision of the west,
Come with each anxious hope subdued,
By woman's gentle fortitude,
Each grief, through weakness, settling into rest.

_The Triad._

How rich that forehead's calm expanse!
How bright that heaven-directed glance!

_Poems of the Affections, 17._

Softly she treads, as if her foot were loth
To crush the mountain dew-drops,--soon to melt
On the flower's breast; as if she felt
That flowers themselves, whate'er their hue,
With all their fragrance, all their glistening,
Call to the heart for inward listening.

_The Triad._

Let other bards of angels sing,
Bright suns without a spot;
But thou art no such perfect thing;
Rejoice that thou art not!

Heed not though none should call thee fair;
So, Mary, let it be
If naught in loveliness compare
With what thou art to me.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats,
Whose veil is unremoved
Till heart to heart in concord beats,
And the lover is beloved.

_Poems of the Affections, 15._

What heavenly smiles!