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Poem	By the Feal's wave benighted, No star in the skies, To thy door by Love lighted, I first saw those eyes. Some voice whisper'd o'er me, As the threshold I cross'd, There was ruin before me, If I loved, I was lost. Love came, and brought sorrow Too soon in his train; Yet so sweet, that to-morrow 'Twere welcome again. Though misery's full measure My portion should be, I would drain it with pleasure, If pour'd out by thee. You, who call it dishonour To bow to this flame, If you've eyes, look but on her, And blush while you blame. Hath the pearl less whiteness Because of its birth? Hath the violet less brightness For growing near earth? No -- Man for his glory To ancestry flies; But Woman's bright story Is told in her eyes. While the Monarch but traces Through mortals his line, Beauty, born of the Graces, Ranks next to Divine!
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