Samuel Taylor Coleridge

On a Lady Weeping

Lovely gems of radiance meek

Trembling down my Laura's cheek,

As the streamlets silent glide

Thro' the Mead's enamell'd pride,

Pledges sweet of pious woe,

Tears which Friendship taught to flow,

Sparkling in yon humid light

Love embathes his pinions bright:

There amid the glitt'ring show'r

Smiling sits th' insidious Power;

As some wingéd Warbler oft

When Spring-clouds shed their treasures soft

Joyous tricks his plumes anew,

And flutters in the fost'ring dew.