Classic Poem

BY LEWIS F. THOMAS .

Fair lady, in those sunny climes
That lie beneath the castern skies,
Love's language is not writ in rhymes,
But beams in looks and breathes in sighs;
And when foud maidens would impart
To one away, love's magic power,
They send the wishes of the heart
Interpreted by leaf or flower.
I marked last night thy sigh — thy look —
Alas! they told no love for me,
Though in this leaf, as in a book,
I read the words — " I live for thee. "

Sweet lady, since thy look or sigh
Confirms not what this leaflet tells,
O, take it back — nor deem that I
Think lightly of thy magic spells:
Yes, take it, a memorial still
Of one who owns thy witching sway,
Whose heart can know no other will
Than thy fond wishes to obey.
O, keep it — and when hence I fly,
Let it remind thee oft of me,
And tell, as doth my look and sigh,
" I live for thee — I live for thee. "