Nora
CALM and fair
Flows the stream of Nora’s life,
Moving with a lazy air
Far from strife.
Goddesses
Must have looked from just such eyes,
Full of still felicities,—
No surprise,
No endeavour
(For endeavour mars perfection),
And, one almost fancies, never
Strong affection.
Far too cold
Seems that face for dream of mine,
Though, if set in sculptured mould,
How divine!
As she stands
Looking from the window forth,
Gazing o’er the sunny lands
To the north,
Light and shade
Cross and quiver to and fro,
By the she-oak’s tresses made,
Waving slow
In the breeze;
But no varying light you trace,
Save from flittings such as these,
On her face.
Calmly moving
On her daily household ways,
Little can you see for loving,
Much for praise.
One alone
Sets her quiet life aglow,
And, whene’er she hears his tone,
Then, I know
That her form
Has a richer, fuller grace,
And the colour rushes warm
To her face.
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poem by Henry Laurie
Added by Poetry Lover
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