Louisa Stuart Costello

(1799-1870 / France)

Song.—thy Form Was Fair - Poem by Louisa Stuart Costello

Thy form was fair, thine eye was bright,

Thy voice was melody;

Around thee beam'd the purest light

Of love's own sky.

Each word that trembled on thy tongue

Was sweet, was dear to me;

A spell in those soft numbers hung

That drew my soul to thee.

Thy form, thy voice, thine eyes are now

As beauteous and as fair;

But though still blooming is thy brow,

Love is not there.

And though as sweet thy voice be yet,

I treasure not the tone;

It cannot bid my heart forget—

Its tenderness is gone!


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Read poems about / on: sky, light, song, love, heart



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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