'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye, <br />Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye, <br />Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair, <br />Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare. <br />Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream, <br />The changing hues of an April sky. <br />They fade like dew in the morning beam, <br />Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh. <br /> <br />'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel, <br />'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel: <br />'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free, <br />And the bosom that heaves alone for me. <br />Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay <br />From youth's gay morning to age's night; <br />When beauty's rainbow tints decay, <br />Love's torch still burns with a holy light. <br /> <br />Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade, <br />And love will droop in the cheerless shade, <br />Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy, <br />It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy. <br />But oh! the light of the constant soul <br />Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim; <br />Though woe may weep in life's mingled bowl, <br />Love still shall hover around its brim.<br /><br />Joseph Rodman Drake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-tis-not-the-beam/
