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Poem by Joseph Rodman Drake

Written in a Ladys Album

Grant me, I cried, some spell of art,
   To turn with all a lovers care,
That spotless page, my Evas heart,
   And write my burning wishes there.

But Love, by faithless Laia taught
   How frail is womans holiest vow,
Lookd down, while grace attempered thought
   Sate serious on his baby brow.

Go! blot her album, cried the sage,
   There none but bards a place may claim;
But womans hearts a worthless page,
   Where every fool may write his name.

Until by time or fate decayed,
   That line and leaf shall never part;
Ah! who can tell how soon shall fade
   The lines of love from womans heart.

Joseph Rodman Drake

Joseph Rodman Drake's other poems:
  1. Bronx
  2. Lines Written on Leaving New Rochelle
  3. Fragment
  4. To ---
  5. Song (Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye)

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