Classic Poem

They gazed upon each other. They were young,
In the first bloom of beauty. She was fair:—
Around her marble neck her raven hair
In flowing curls and waving tresses hung;
There was a pensive spirit in her eye,
Whose sparkling jet, beneath a falling lid
Fringed with its long, dark lashes, vainly hid
The fire of love that lit it. She would try
To seem light-hearted, but whene'er she met
The eye that fixed upon her, darkly set
The dawning of her mirth, and deeper glowed
The clear carnation of her tender cheek;
And though she often strove to smile, and speak
Gayly, the quivering lip and accent showed
A fire was in her bosom, whose pure flame
Not time, nor want, nor force, could quench or tame,
But round her heart the torch would ever play,
And eat, through hopeless years, her life away.