To a poet's wife
She, who in lonely pride may wear
The laurel on her brow,
And sit beneath its chilling shade,
Is far less blest than thou.
A higher happiness is thine,
To hear the voice of Fame
Re-echo in her silver tones,
The one beloved name.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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