Kentucky Gazette

POETRY.
FROM THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
"SHE NEVER TOLD HER LOVE."
SHAKSPEARE.
OH! it is sweet to hush the sigh
That trembles on the lip of beauty!
To wipe the dew that wets the eye
Of her who pines 'tween love and duty!
Oh! it is sweet to soothe the breast
That throbbing swells with tender feeling
To view the cheek in dimples drest,
Where languid sorrow's tears were stealing!
Too oft in beauty's gayest hour.
The heart within is cold and gloomy;
Too oft the smile is like the flow'r
That lives not—feels not—yet is blooming.
Ah! hapless woman may not tell,
She loves—tho' love each glance revealing!
Her heart may beat—her bosom swell—
Her only hope is in concealing
And 'mid the weight of inward care,
Her eye with crystal light is beaming,
The smile still seems to linger there,
But sorrow's flood within is streaming
So may be seen at eve's last hour.
When calm and bright the moon is shining,
The lily's spotless virgin flow'r,
In tears its tender head reclining.
*Globe Amaranthus, or everlasting flower