by The Honourable Julia Augusta Maynard.
Originally published in Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance (Chapman and Hall) vol.2 #11 (Dec 1842).
Ah! who was fair as Coralie
In all the country round?
And who could sing so merrily,
With such a tuneful sound?
Her dark eye sparkled laughingly,
And radiant was her smile;
Ah! None was blithe as Coralie,
So innocent the while.
Her voice, oh! how enchantingly
It broke upon the ear!
You deem’d, when heeding Coralie,
An angel must be near.
And yet how perseveringly
Did sorrow break the spell,
When the love of blighted Coralie
Had breathed his last farewell.
And now, alas! how dismally
The rain is patt'ring slow
upon the grave of Coralie!
For she is stricken low.
And frosty winds are mournfully
Lamenting o'er the dead;
Methought they murmur'd "Coralie,"
Where grassy turfs are spread.
All earth may smile unfeelingly,
And wand'ring breezes range;
But the heart that loveth Coralie
Can never, never change!