“What Heavenly Smiles! O Lady Mine”

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems founded on the Affections.”--ED.

What heavenly smiles! O Lady mine Through my very heart they shine; And, if my brow gives back their light, Do thou look gladly on the sight; As the clear Moon with modest pride Beholds her own bright beams Reflected from the mountain’s side And from the headlong streams.

1845.

… this …

MS.

TO A LADY,

IN ANSWER TO A REQUEST THAT I WOULD WRITE HER A POEM UPON SOME DRAWINGS THAT SHE HAD MADE OF FLOWERS IN THE ISLAND OF MADEIRA

Composed 1845.--Published 1845

One of the “Poems of the Fancy.”--ED.

Fair Lady! can I sing of flowers That in Madeira bloom and fade, I who ne’er sate within their bowers, Nor through their sunny lawns have strayed? How they in sprightly dance are worn By Shepherd-groom or May-day queen, Or holy festal pomps adorn, These eyes have never seen.

Yet tho’ to me the pencil’s art No like remembrances can give, Your portraits still may reach the heart And there for gentle pleasure live; While Fancy ranging with free scope Shall on some lovely Alien set A name with us endeared to hope, To peace, or fond regret.

Still as we look with nicer care, Some new resemblance we may trace: A Heart’s-ease will perhaps be there, A Speedwell may not want its place. And so may we, with charmèd mind Beholding what your skill has wrought, Another Star-of-Bethlehem find, A new Forget-me-not.

From earth to heaven with motion fleet From heaven to earth our thoughts will pass, A Holy-thistle here we meet And there a Shepherd’s weather-glass; And haply some familiar name Shall grace the fairest, sweetest, plant Whose presence cheers the drooping frame Of English Emigrant.

Gazing she feels its power beguile Sad thoughts, and breathes with easier breath; Alas! that meek that tender smile Is but a harbinger of death: And pointing with a feeble hand She says, in faint words by sighs broken, Bear for me to my native land This precious Flower, true love’s last token.

1845.

And there in sweet communion live: Yet those loved most, in which we own A touching likeness which they bear To flower or herb, by Nature sown, To breathe our English air.

MS.

And there in sweet communion live Admired for beauty of their own, Loved for the likeness some may bear To flower …

MS.

Thus tempted Fancy with free scope Will range, and on these aliens set Names among us endeared to none, To hearts a fond regret.

MS.

So tempted … May range, …

MS.

Nor miss …

MS.