Written to Mr. Key, By A Lady in Alabama


Thanks , gentle fairy — now my album take
And place it on his table ere he wake,
Then whisper, that a maiden all unknown,
Claims from the poet's hand a trifling boon;
Trifling perchance to him, but oh! not so
To her whose heart has thrilled long, long ago,
As his inspiring lays came to her ear,
Lending the stranger's name an interest dear
A timid girl may yet be bold t' admire
The poet's fervor, and the patriot's fire;
But 'tis not these — though magical their power,
They cannot brighten woman's saddened hour,
And she, the happiest, has saddened hours,
When all life's pathways are bereft of flowers,
And her bowed spirit feels, as felt by thee,
That to " live always " on this earth would be
For her, for all, no happy destiny.

Poet and Patriot! thou may'st write for fame,
But by a tenderer and holier name
I call thee — Christian! Write me here one lay,
For me to read and treasure when thou'rt away.
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