American Female Poets [an electronic edition]

DESCRIPTION OF ALICE RAY.

(FROM ALICE RAY.)

THE birds their love-notes warble Among the blossom'd trees; The flowers are sighing forth their sweets To wooing honey-bees; The glad brook o'er a pebbly floor Goes dancing on its way; — But not a thing is so like spring As happy Alice Ray.

An only child was Alice, And, like the blest above, The gentle maid had ever breathed An atmosphere of love;

Her father's smile like sunshine came, Like dew her mother's kiss, Their love and goodness made her home, Like heaven, the place of bliss.

Beneath such tender training, The joyous child had sprung, Like one bright flower, in wild-wood bower, And gladness round her flung; And all who met her bless'd her, And turned again to pray, That grief and care might ever spare The happy Alice Ray.

The gift that made her charming Was not from Venus caught; Nor was it, Pallas-like, derived From majesty of thought; —Her healthful check was tinged with brown, Her hair without a curl; But then her eyes were love-lit stars, Her teeth as pure as pearl.

And when in merry laughter Her sweet, clear voice was heard, It well'd from out her happy heart Like carol of a bird; And all who heard were moved to smiles, As at some mirthful lay, And, to the stranger's look, replied — "'T is that dear Alice Ray."

And so she came, like sunbeams That bring the April green; As type of nature's royalty, They call'd her "Woodburn's Queen!"

A sweet, heart-lifting cheerfulness, Like spring-time of the year, Seem'd ever on her steps to wait, — No wonder she was dear.