To Katherine

Discerning its abode so fair, So delicate with all of grace, I deem thine eyes in truth declare The inherent soul's abiding-place. But oh! 'tis harder of belief To chink, illumined with thy smile, That thou art made a child of grief, A waif our careless hours exile. Yet such thou art. Thy spirit sighs For vanished heavens that could not last— A watcher of unchanging skies, In lands and seasons of die past, Where Memory, with tireless sight, Seeks upon unforgotten ways Her visions holy with the light Of irrecoverable days.