Classic Poem

Youthful widow! lovely widow!
With thy fair and thoughtful face;
With thy weeds of sorrow floating
Round thy form of quiet grace;—
Wheresoe'er thy footsteps lead thee,
Magic reigns upon the spot;
I have watched thy mien and motion,—
Could I gaze and love thee not?

Gentle widow! pleasing widow!
Music lingers on thy tongue,—
Sweet when social converse floweth,—
Sweeter in the words of song.
When to thee men turn and listen,
Other things are all forgot;—
I have heard thee, lovely mourner!—
Could I hear, and love thee not?

Pensive widow! faithful widow!
Truth and feeling warm thy heart;—
Virtue flings her light around thee,—
May that glory ne'er depart!
None have dared in wanton malice,
Thine unsullied fame to blot;
I have known thy worth and beauty,—
Could I know, and love thee not?