Fifteen
When first I saw thee, lady of my dreams,
And watched love's sunrise shed its ardent gold
O'er hill and valley and wild purple wold —
The golden light which once superbly gleams,
Then fades for ever; when, beside the streams
Of that fair Northern many-tinted sea,
Thy girlish tender presence shone on me,
But fifteen years had crowned thee with sunbeams.
And Dante's Beatrice was but fifteen!
And her sweet deathless eyes were soft sea-green,
When first she stood before him in the way; —
So wast thou girl-soft, simple and divine,
When first thy young yet timeless glance met mine, —
Green, mixed with soft sea-shadows of brown-grey.
And watched love's sunrise shed its ardent gold
O'er hill and valley and wild purple wold —
The golden light which once superbly gleams,
Then fades for ever; when, beside the streams
Of that fair Northern many-tinted sea,
Thy girlish tender presence shone on me,
But fifteen years had crowned thee with sunbeams.
And Dante's Beatrice was but fifteen!
And her sweet deathless eyes were soft sea-green,
When first she stood before him in the way; —
So wast thou girl-soft, simple and divine,
When first thy young yet timeless glance met mine, —
Green, mixed with soft sea-shadows of brown-grey.
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