To* Poem by Eliza Acton
To*
How sacred is the lightest thing
Which wakes a thought of thee !-
The wild-flow'r's lonely blossoming;
The young spring-zephyr's laden wing,
Are spells, which to my bosom bring
Rich tides of memory!
Soft tones of music floating far
At ev'ning o'er the sea;-
The trembling of the twilight star,
When not a cloud hath dar'd to mar
Its dewy smiles,-but sweet dreams are
Which lead my soul to thee!
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5/1/2024 7:27:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
