Fidelia S T Hill

But once I saw her, with the auburn hair
In rich profusion, shading her pure cheek,
A cheek of beauty, and so sweetly fair,
...

Yes! there was one that loved thee — years that steal
In swift succession from this changing scene,
Cannot efface thine image; and I feel
...

Fitz Eustace. —
'The seagull flutters to her nest
The fishermen are gone to rest,
...

Fitz Eustace.

In gay parterres where I have been
What groups of gaudy flowers I've seen
...

Fair Estelle.
* * * * *
Moons wax'd, and waned in dreary hopelessness,
And ever when my days sad task was done,
...

Still she was fair, although the bloom of youth
Had yielded to the hectic of disease,
And fever lighted up her brilliant eye,
...

Rose of Lancaster.

Her downcast eyes are bent on earth,
On her wild harp one lily arm
...

Tho' all neglected now, the time hath been
When yon wide pleasaunce was the loveliest scene;
...

Encircled by a blooming band
Of peerless damsels, fair and young,
Reclined yon canopy beneath,
...

The summer sun is sinking red
Beneath the 'Mountains Blue'
And thou upon thy dying bed,
...

We'll think on thee, when Spring's fresh gale
Breathes softly o'er the violets' bed —
We'll think on thee, when Autumn pale
...

I'll not forget thee Wakefield! times may change,
And I upon this earth a wanderer be,
But far or near, or wheresoe'er I range,
...

In other days a tower 'tis said
Far hence upreared its stately head:
And proud Saint Oswald ruined now
Peer'd o'er yon lofty mountain's brow.
...

The sun pours forth as rich a ray
As ever graced Autumnal day,
And ne'er did clear, and cloudless skies
...

'Thou poor blind girl
Why clings't thou thus to me,
Is yonder battle field
A fitting place for thee?
...

Thy gentle nature, owns no sense, Estelle!
Like that which Warriors feel when arrows rattle,
...

And art thou safely moored at last
So 'long of wind, and waves the sport?'
A proud and gallant bark thou wast
...

Fair flower of Christmas — white chrysanthemum!
I mark thy blossoms wave, thy fragile form
Bend to the breeze, yet brave the wintry storm.
...

In vain for thee, the gifts proud Nature gave,
The faultless person, and the exalted mind,
The martial spirit which adorns the brave,
...

Here are pansies to plant round thy tomb,
For thought, busy meddling thought,
Recalls what thou wert, and thy doom
Awakens the sadness it ought;
...