Isabel.

They said that I was strange. I could not bear     Confinement, and I lov'd to feel the wind     Blowing upon my forehead, and when morn     Came like an inspiration from the East,     And the cool earth, awaking like a star     In a new element, sent out its voice,     And tempted me with music, and the breath     Of a delicious perfume, and the dye     Of the rich forests and the pastures green,     To come out and be glad - I would not stay     To bind my gushing spirit with a book.     Fourteen bright summers - and my heart had grown     Impatient in its loneliness, and yearn'd     For something that was like itself, to love.     She came - the stately Isabel - as proud     And beautiful, and gentle as my dream;     And with my wealth of feeling, lov'd I her.     Older by years, and wiser of the world,     She was in thought my equal, and we rang'd     The pleasant wood together, and sat down     Impassion'd with the same delicious sweep     Of water, and I pour'd into her ear     My passion and my hoarded thoughts like one,     Till I forgot that there was any world     But Isabel and nature. She was pleas'd     And flatter'd with my wild and earnest love,     And suffer'd my delirious words to burn     Upon my lip unchided. It was new     To be so worshipped like a deity     By a pure heart from nature, and she gave     Her tenderness its way, and when I kiss'd     Her fingers till I thought I was in Heaven,     She gaz'd upon me silently, and wept.                  *             *             *             *             *     I have seen eighteen summers - and the child     Of stately Isabel hath learn'd to come     And win me from my sadness. I have school'd     My feelings to affection for that child,     And I can see his father fondle him,     And give him to his mother with a kiss     Upon her holy forehead - and be calm!