Long Years of Sorrow

Thomas Pringle

Long years of sorrow and slow wasting care
Have stol'n from thy soft cheek its vermeil hue;
And somewhat changed the glossy locks that threw
Their shadowy beauty round thy temples fair;

And lent to those sweet eyes a sadder air,
That, from their long dark fringes laughing, blue,
Once look'd like violets fresh bathed in dew,
And seem'd as they might e'en enchant despair!

Sickness and grief have touched thee: yet so mildly
That, though some graces of thy youth are gone,
The loveliness that witch'd my heart so wildly
In life's romantic Spring, is still thine own:

And those meek pensive eyes, in their revealings,
Speak now of higher thoughts and deeper feelings.

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