POETRY.
INCONSTANCY,
(Temple Bar.)
Time changes all things. One short year Hath pass’d, sweet Isabel, since here We parted. I ador’d thee then ; And no v—how do we meet again ? I do not see as I have seen, Or thou art not as thou hast been. Thine eye is of a colder blue— Thy cheek is of a soberer hue— The music from thy lip is gone— Thy harp has lost its heavenly tone ; That snow white breast, where others find An emblem of thy spotless mind, Contrasted with thy nut-brown hair, Appears no longer even fair. Why is thy witchery past for me ? The world sees no decline in thee. Is it less soft—thy silvery voice— Than when it bade my soul rejoice ? Less fair thy form, than when my lays Would breath its charms in brighter days ? Alas ! thou art as lovely now ! This heart is alter’d—and not thou.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GLOBE18750422.2.16
Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume III, Issue 269, 22 April 1875, Page 3
Word Count
151POETRY. Globe, Volume III, Issue 269, 22 April 1875, Page 3
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