To Amanda.
Woman in everything yields to man;
but in that which is highest,
Even the manliest man yields to the woman most weak.
But that highest,-what is it? The
gentle radiance of triumph
As in thy brow upon me, beauteous Amanda, it beams.
When oer the bright shining disk the clouds
of affliction are fleeting,
Fairer the image appears, seen through the vapor
of gold.
Man may think himself free! thou art so,-for
thou never knowest
What is the meaning of choice,-knowst
not necessitys name.
That which thou givest, thou always givest wholly;
but one art thou ever,
Even thy tenderest sound is thine harmonious self.
Youth everlasting dwells here, with fulness that
never is exhausted,
And with the flower at once pluckest thou the ripe
golden fruit.
© e-libr.com
feedback