Classic Poem

BY F. ALEXANDER .

Those deep, deep, fervent eyes, whose gaze intense
Is fixed on vacancy — that youthful brow,
Where thoughts of pain are gathering even now,
And long have gathered, till the very sense
Of thought is agony — that ripe full mouth,
Scarce open, and the long distracted air
On thy sweet face — all tell how sullen care
Hath marr'd thee, daughter of the sunny South!
Say, dost thou miss thy lover's hand among
Those rich brown tresses, that the winds of Heaven
Play with so rudely? Hath the false one given
His cold heart to another? Hath he flung
Away that fiery heart of thine, that swells
And burns within that full and glowing breast,
Where never more sweet peace, nor tranquil rest
Shall cleanse the fount of its embittered wells!

No legend speaks the story of thy days;
Yet there is that inwrought upon thy brow,
Which far more eloquent than words avow,
All the long anguish of thy soul betrays:
Alas, the tale it tells! For blighted youth —
Heart crush'd — hope lost — life wasted — all things gone,
But the deep sense of wretchedness alone,
Impictured here to tell the living truth —
Say the hard world hath been too hard with thee,
Oh, fitting emblem of Rome's crumbled wall,
In ruins still most beautiful! And all
Look sadly on thee, and sigh, " Misery!"