I prized the virgin smile.
Her dimpled cheek adorning,
My heart it charm'd awhile,
'Twas like the smile of morning.
As to the lip of youth,
Young love his first kiss giving,
It seem'd to speak of truth,
How blest was I, believing !

'Twas like the ansjel form
The pilgrim's dream discloses,
Who sheltering from the storm,
In Hermit's cell reposes—
Awhile, the vision bright,
His fancy tranc'd engages,
He wakes—ah ! still 'tis night,
And still the tempest rages !

Thus on my captive soul
The thrilling joy descended.
It fled—'twas darkness all,
Darkness with tempest blended.
My youthful mind was void,
No passion dared to nourish.
It came—it went—destroyed !
The heart 'twas meant to cherish.