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A poem by Margaret Moran D. McDougall

Isabel

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Title:     Isabel
Author: Margaret Moran D. McDougall [More Titles by McDougall]

(ISABELLA STEWART)


Heart of mine, by thy quick beating,
Thou knowest Isabel is near,
And the gladness of the greeting
Dims my eye with rapture's tear.
Heart of mine, each beat will tell
How I love young Isabel.

When I first beheld the maiden,
So fair to see, so sweet to bless,
I, a stranger, sorrow laden,
Arrested by her loveliness,
Then I thought some hand would set,
On that brow a coronet.

She had grace all hearts beguiling,
She had the wealth of silken hair,
And sweet lips, half proud, half smiling,
Neck of snow and bosom fair,
And each eye a sapphire gem
For a monarch's diadem

Oh, she was peerless in her beauty,
Like the fair moon she walked alone,
And loving her was but a duty,
A spell her loveliness had thrown;
And I thought that I could trace
Erin's pencil on her face

With the fervour of my nation,
I worshipped her as months went by,
She was the one constellation,
In my cheerless sky;
Though on me there never fell
One kind glance from Isabel.

Heart of mine we love, we love her,
She is still our lady bright,
Fairest of them all we prove her
Queen of beauty as her right.
And in simple verse we tell
The praises of fair Isabel.


[The end]
Margaret Moran D. McDougall's poem: Isabel

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