"To Eliza" by George Copway
Which breathes o'er thy fair form; then how much less
The bright, the pure, the beautiful, the blest,
Which wake their harmony within thy breast.
When after weary wanderings by wood,
And lake, and stream, and mountain winds, I stood
Upon thy island home, thy guileless heart
A healing welcome gave. When forced to part,
And the frail bark, that o'er the waters bore
Me on my way at last from thy loved shore,
Receded in the distance from thy view,
Thy lovely hand waved a most sweet adieu.
Fair daughter ! accept this tribute of a breast,
Rich in thy smiles, hath been so richly blest.