Anne Lynch Botta

“ That bare against the sky,
Their naked branches rear;
Leaves, buds, and blossoms lie.
So beauty’s myriad forms,
Within thy soul are sleeping;
While thou, upon their sleep,
A wintry spell art keeping. ”

“ Ah no! my love knows no vain jealousy:
The rose that blooms and lives but in the sun,
Asks not what other flowers he shines upon,
If he but shine on her. Enough for me,
Thus in thy light to dwell, and thus to share
The sunshine of thy smile with all things fair. ”

“ TO ——.
They may talk of the eloquence famous in story;
Of the names that through ages continue to shine;
There never has fallen more true oratory
From the lips of a mortal, than falleth from thine. ”