<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=427403" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Song: Tis Not the Beam</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye, <br>Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye, <br>Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair, <br>Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare. <br>Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream, <br>The changing hues of an April sky. <br>They fade like dew in the morning beam, <br>Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel, <br>'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel: <br>'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free, <br>And the bosom that heaves alone for me. <br>Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay <br>From youth's gay morning to age's night; <br>When beauty's rainbow tints decay, <br>Love's torch still burns with a holy light. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade, <br>And love will droop in the cheerless shade, <br>Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy, <br>It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy. <br>But oh! the light of the constant soul <br>Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim; <br>Though woe may weep in life's mingled bowl, <br>Love still shall hover around its brim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Rodman+Drake">Joseph Rodman Drake</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=427403" data-title="Song: Tis Not the Beam de Joseph Rodman Drake" data-description="'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye, Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye, Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair, Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare. Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream, The changing hues of an April ..."></div> </div> </div>

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