A Fragment Poem by Washington Allston

But most they wondered at the charm she gave
To common things, that seemed as from the grave
Of mouldering custom suddenly to rise
To fresh and fairer life; a life so new,
And yet so real, — to the heart so true,—
They gazed upon the world as if a thousand ties,
Till now to all unknown, between them daily grew.

The life was hers, — from that mysterious cell
Whence sends the soul her self-diffusing spell,
Whose once embodied breath for ever is:
Though ruthless Time, with whom no creature strives,
At every step treads out a thousand lives,
Yet brings his wasting march no doom to this,—
Like heritage with air, that aye for all survives.