| I SENT a ring—a little band | |
| Of emerald and ruby stone, | |
| And bade it, sparkling on thy hand, | |
| Tell thee sweet tales of one | |
| Whose constant memory | 5 |
| Was full of loveliness, and thee. | |
| |
| A shell was graven on its gold,— | |
| 'Twas Cupid fix'd without his wings— | |
| To Helene once it would have told | |
| More than was ever told by rings: | 10 |
| But now all 's past and gone, | |
| Her love is buried with that stone. | |
| |
| Thou shalt not see the tears that start | |
| From eyes by thoughts like these beguiled; | |
| Thou shalt not know the beating heart, | 15 |
| Ever a victim and a child: | |
| Yet Helene, love, believe | |
| The heart that never could deceive. | |
| |
| I'll hear thy voice of melody | |
| In the sweet whispers of the air; | 20 |
| I'll see the brightness of thine eye | |
| In the blue evening's dewy star; | |
| In crystal streams thy purity; | |
| And look on Heaven to look on thee. | |
