R

Of those beloved, those vanish'd hours,
When all my soul was given to thee;
Hours that may never be forgot,

Till time unnerves our vital powers,

And thou and I shall cease to be.

Can I forget-canst thou forget,

When playing with thy golden hair,

How quick thy fluttering heart did move?

Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet,

With eyes so languid, breast so fair,

And lips, though silent, breathing love.

When thus reclining on my breast,

Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet,

As half reproach'd yet raised desire,

And still we near and nearer prest,

And still our glowing lips would meet,
As if in kisses to expire.

And then those pensive eyes would close,
And bid their lids each other seek,
Veiling the azure orbs below;
While their long lashes' darken'd gloss
Seem'd stealing o'er thy brilliant cheek,
Like raven's plumage smooth'd on snow.

I dreamt last night our love return'd,

sooth to say, that very

dream

And,
Was sweeter in its phantasy,

Than if for other hearts I burn'd,

For eyes

that ne'er like thine could beam

In rapture's wild reality.

Then tell me not, remind me not,

Of hours which, though for ever gone,

Can still a pleasing dream restore,

Till thou and I shall be forgot,

And senseless, as the mouldering stone

Which tells that we shall be no more.

HERE was a time, I need not name,
Since it will ne'er forgotten be,
When all our feelings were the same
As still my soul hath been to thee.

And from that hour when first thy tongue Confess'd a love which equall'd mine, Though many a grief my heart hath wrung, Unknown, and thus unfelt, by thine,

None, none hath sunk so deep as this-
To think how all that love hath flown;
Transient as every faithless kiss,

But transient in thy breast alone.

And yet my heart some solace knew, When late I heard thy lips declare, In accents once imagined true,

Remembrance of the days that were.

Yes! my adored, yet most unkind! Though thou wilt never love again, To me 'tis doubly sweet to find

Remembrance of that love remain.

Yes! 'tis a glorious thought to me, Nor longer shall my soul repine, Whate'er thou art or e'er shalt be, Thou hast been dearly, solely mine.

L