Classic Poem

Lady of gentle mien and eye,
We every hour have missed thee,
Since when we gave the last good-bye,
And, at the parting, kissed thee!

The stars above grow dim at dawn,
Are lost in day's full beaming;
But thou, our star, on that last morn,
Didst shine with brighter gleaming.

Thy winning ways and witching smile,
Seemed all enhanced in losing,
And sweeter grew each tone the while;
Ah — 'twas not of our choosing —

But thou, wouldst leave us! Yet perchance
Kind hearts for thee were pining,
Which saw their sun of joy advance,
As we saw ours declining!

I saw thee last upon the deck,
A manly hand warm grasping;
Who — who in thought or wish would check
The fervor of that clasping!

Ah! happy all thy future years,
Where'er thy steps are bending,
So thou may'st have, thro' toils and tears,
That manly form attending!

Nay do not blush, some smiling cot
Awaits thy charms to grace it
Heaven send thee earth's divinest lot,
Till Heaven itself replace it!