Poem by Joseph Rodman Drake

To Eva

A beam upon the myrtle fell
   From dewy evening’s purest sky,
’Twas like the glance I love so well,
   Dear Eva, from thy moonlight eye.

I looked around the summer grove,
   On every tree its lustre shone;
For all had felt that look of love
   The silly myrtle deemed its own.

Eva! behold thine image there,
   As fair, as false thy glances fall;
But who the worthless smile would share
   That sheds its light alike on all.

1. Bronx
2. To Sarah
3. To ---
4. Song (’Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye)
5. The American Flag

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