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Verses to a Child

1 O raise those eyes to me

And smile again so joyously,

And fear not, love; it was not

Nor grief that drew these tears from me;

Beloved child, thou canst not

The thoughts that in my bosom

Whene'er I look on thee!2 Thou knowest not that a glance of

Can bring back long departed

And that thy blue eyes' magic

Can overflow my own with tears,

And that each feature soft and

And every curl of golden hair,

Some sweet remembrance bears.3 Just then thou didst recall to meA distant long forgotten scene,

One smile, and one sweet word from

Dispelled the years that rolled between;

I was a little child again,

And every after joy and

Seemed never to have been.4 Tall forest trees waved over me,

To hide me from the heat of day,

And by my side a child like

Among the summer flowerets lay.

He was thy sire, thou merry child.

Like thee he spoke, like thee he smiled,

Like thee he used to play.5 O those were calm and happy days,

We loved each other fondly then;

But human love too soon decays,

And ours can never bloom again.

I never thought to see the

When Florian's friendship would

Like those of colder men.6 Now,

Flora, thou hast but

To sail on life's deceitful sea,

O do not err as I have done,

For I have trusted foolishly;

The faith of every friend I lovedI never doubted till I

Their heart's inconstancy.7 'Tis mournful to look back

Those long departed joys and cares,

But I will weep since thou

Art witness to my streaming tears.

This lingering love will not depart,

I cannot banish from my

The friend of childish years.8 But though thy father loves me not,

Yet I shall still be loved by thee,

And though I am by him forgot,

Say wilt thou not remember me!

I will not cause thy heart to ache;

For thy regretted father's sakeI'll love and cherish thee.

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Anne Bronte

Anne Brontë (17 January 1820 – 28 May 1849) was an English novelist and poet, the youngest member of the Brontë literary family.

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