by J.B.
Originally published in Fraser's Magazine (James Fraser) vol.2 #7 (Aug 1830).
A year—an age shall fade away
(Ages of pleasure and of pain,)
And yet the face I see to-day
For ever shall remain,—
In my heart and in my brain!
Not all the scalding tears of care
Shall wash away the vision fair;
Not all the flocking thoughts that rise—
Not all the sights that feed my eyes
Shall e'er usurp the place
Of that little gentle face:
But there I know it will remain,—
And when joy or pleasant pain
Turn my troubled winter gaze
Back unto my April days,
There, amongst the hoarded past,
I shall see it to the last,—
The only thing, save poet's rhyme,
That shall not own the touch of Time!