Classic Poem

Oh! 'tis not Flatt'ry — though I own
That thus to ramble on with thee
(Save Nature's presence) all alone
Has many a pleasing charm for me.

To watch the flush that feeling throws
In roseate tints upon your cheek,
Or catch the unsullied thought that flows
In every artless word you speak.

To mark the smile those lips impart —
That bright and airy form to view
Or hold communion with a heart
To Virtue's holiest impulse true.

Nay, there's a spell of secret power
Charming each word and look of thine,
That haunts my Mem'ry since the hour
Your eyes first opened upon mine;

A spell, that all my Spirit's Pride
(Which fancied coldness once awoke)
With many a struggle strove to hide,
But, never, for an instant broke.

A spell, which Time nor Absence ne'er
Could for a single moment sever,
Which to my heart has grown so dear
'Tis twined around its core for ever.

Oh! 'tis not Flatt'ry — though I own
That thus to ramble on with thee
(Save Nature's presence) all alone
Has many a pleasing charm for me.

To watch the flush that feeling throws
In roseate tints upon your cheek,
Or catch the unsullied thought that flows
In every artless word you speak.

To mark the smile those lips impart —
That bright and airy form to view
Or hold communion with a heart
To Virtue's holiest impulse true.

Nay, there's a spell of secret power
Charming each word and look of thine,
That haunts my Mem'ry since the hour
Your eyes first opened upon mine;

A spell, that all my Spirit's Pride
(Which fancied coldness once awoke)
With many a struggle strove to hide,
But, never, for an instant broke.

A spell, which Time nor Absence ne'er
Could for a single moment sever,
Which to my heart has grown so dear
'Tis twined around its core for ever.