Thy form was fair, thine eye was bright, <br /> <br /> Thy voice was melody; <br /> <br />Around thee beam'd the purest light <br /> <br /> Of love's own sky. <br /> <br />Each word that trembled on thy tongue <br /> <br /> Was sweet, was dear to me; <br /> <br />A spell in those soft numbers hung <br /> <br /> That drew my soul to thee. <br /> <br />Thy form, thy voice, thine eyes are now <br /> <br /> As beauteous and as fair; <br /> <br />But though still blooming is thy brow, <br /> <br /> Love is not there. <br /> <br />And though as sweet thy voice be yet, <br /> <br /> I treasure not the tone; <br /> <br />It cannot bid my heart forget— <br /> <br /> Its tenderness is gone!<br /><br />Louisa Stuart Costello<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-thy-form-was-fair/
