WHEN maidens such as Hester die <br />Their place ye may not well supply, <br />Though ye among a thousand try <br /> With vain endeavour. <br /> <br />A month or more hath she been dead, <br />Yet cannot I by force be led <br />To think upon the wormy bed <br /> And her together. <br /> <br />A springy motion in her gait, <br />A rising step, did indicate <br />Of pride and joy no common rate, <br /> That flush'd her spirit: <br /> <br />I know not by what name beside <br />I shall it call: if 'twas not pride, <br />It was a joy to that allied, <br /> She did inherit. <br /> <br />Her parents held the Quaker rule, <br />Which doth the human feeling cool; <br />But she was train'd in Nature's school; <br /> Nature had blest her. <br /> <br />A waking eye, a prying mind; <br />A heart that stirs, is hard to bind; <br />A hawk's keen sight ye cannot blind; <br /> Ye could not Hester. <br /> <br />My sprightly neighbour! gone before <br />To that unknown and silent shore, <br />Shall we not meet, as heretofore, <br /> Some summer morning-- <br /> <br />When from thy cheerful eyes a ray <br />Hath struck a bliss upon the day, <br />A bliss that would not go away, <br /> A sweet forewarning?<br /><br />Charles Lamb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hester/
