[Image: Anne Lee]
I
saw thee in lifes witching hour
I thought thee all divine
&
sweeter still thou fairey flower
Frail hope bespoke her mine
But
why need I repent the day
Which years have left with thee
Since
one frail spring scarce stopt to say
That hope can never be
The
world full early frowned on me
& shaped our lives contrary
It
dashed the hopes I had for thee
& made thee haughty Mary
For
still methinks had I been born
To meet lifes smiles so early
Pride
neer had made me treat with scorn
A name I loved so dearly
I
felt in times now fled and gone
By many a cheery token
The
links that our hearts seem one
Should not so soon be broken
But
life a seeming shower at best
Is nothing that it seems
&
dreams of love were hope will rest
Are nothing else but dreams
Poems
of the Middle Period
ed. Eric Robinson, David Powell
and P.M.S. Dawson
Volumes I-II (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1996)
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