By Charles Sangster



     It was a summer’s eve, on which I first
     Beheld thee.  As I looked into thine eyes,
     And saw them flashing with the consciousness
     Of their attractive power, the Love God
     Spread his wings o’er me.  From that hour I nursed


     A pleasing form that to my bosom flew,
     Seeking admittance.  Not till then I knew
     That Love and Hope were friends.  Could I despise
     The teachings of the rosy twain?  Not less
     Welcome was Love’s companion than himself. [Page 233]


     How kind was Hope!  But Love—deceitful elf!
     Called Sorrow in, who with his heavy rod
     Chastised me.  There the three remain:
Hope soothes when Love or Sorrow brings me pain. [Page 234]