Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/243

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Raising her eyes and dark-rimm'd spectaclesTo see the passer by, yet ceasing notTo twirl her lengthening thread. Or in the gardenOn some dry summer evening, walking roundTo view her flowers, and pointing, as she lean'dUpon the ivory handle of her stick,To some carnation whose o'erheavy headNeeded support, while with the watering-potJoanna followed, and refresh'd and trimm'dThe drooping plant; Joanna, her dear child,As lovely and as happy then as youthAnd innocence could make her. Charles! it seemsAs tho' I were a boy again, and allThe mediate years with their vicissitudesA half-forgotten dream. I see the MaidSo comely in her Sunday dress! her hair,Her bright brown hair, wreath'd in contracting curls,And then her cheek! it was a red and whiteThat made the delicate hues of art look loathsome.
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