The Lay of Marie by Matilda Betham
page 23 of 194 (11%)
page 23 of 194 (11%)
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When, launch'd in some lone boat, I sought
A little kingdom for my thought, Within a river's winding cove, Whose forests form a double grove, And, from the water's silent flow, Appear more beautiful below; While their large leaves the lilies lave, Or plash upon the shadow'd wave; While birds, with darken'd pinions, fly Across that still intenser sky; Fish, with cold plunge, with startling leap, Or arrow-flight across the deep; And stilted insects, light-o-limb, Would dimple o'er the even brim; If, with my hand, in play, I chose The cold, smooth current to oppose, As fine a spell my senses bound As vacant bosom ever found! "And when I took my proudest post, Near him on earth I valued most, (No after-time could banish thence A father's dear pre-eminence,) And felt the kind, protecting charm, The clasp of a paternal arm; Felt, as instinctively it prest, The sacred magnet of his breast, 'Gainst which I lean'd, and seem'd to grow, With that deep fondness none can know, Whom Providence does not assign |
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