At length the urchin Pleasure fled, The index now alone remains, Of all the pages spoil'd by Pleasure, And though it bears some honey stains, Yet Memory counts the leaf a treasure! And oft they say she scans it o'er, And oft, by this memorial aided, Brings back the pages, now no more, And thinks of lines that long have faded! I know not if this tale be true, But thus the simple facts are stated; And I refer their truth to you, Since Love and you are near related! I SAW THY FORM IN YOUTHFUL PRIME. I SAW thy form in youthful prime, As streams that run o'er golden mines, Nor seem to know the wealth that shines So, veil'd beneath the simplest guise, And that which charm'd all other eyes, If souls could always dwell above, To live with them is far less sweet I SAW FROM THE BEACH. I SAW from the beach, when the morning was shining, Ah! such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known : Each wave, that we danced on at morning, ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone! Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night; Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth evening's best light. Oh! who would not welcome that moment's returning, THIS LIFE IS ALL CHEQUER'D WITH PLEASURES AND WOES. THIS life is all chequer'd with pleasures and woes, Reflecting our eyes as they sparkle or weep. So closely our whims on our miseries tread, The goose feathers of Folly can turn it aside. And the short brilliant folly that flashes and dies! When Hylas was sent with his urn to the fount, Through fields full of sunshine, with heart full of play, Light rambled the boy over meadow and mount, And neglected his task for the flowers on the way. One bright drop or two, that has fall'n on the leaves ST. JEROME'S LOVE. WHO is the maid my spirit seeks, Through cold reproof and slander's blight! Or if, at times, a light be there, I chose not her, my soul's elect, From those who seek their Maker's shrine As if themselves were things divine ! Not so the faded form I prize Is all the grace her brow puts on. And ne'er was beauty's dawn so bright, So touching as that form's decay, Which, like the altar's trembling light, In holy lustre wastes away! OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT. OFT, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. When I remember all The friends, so link'd together, Like leaves in wintry weather; Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me. WHEN 'MIDST THE GAY I MEET. WHEN 'midst the gay I meet Your secret tears you show, Then still with bright looks bless The gay, the cold, the free; Give smiles to those who love you less, But keep your tears for me. The snow on Jura's steep Can smile with many a beam, Yet still in chains of coldness sleep, Whose touch is fire, appears, And, melting, turns to tears. Give smiles to those who love you less, But keep your tears for me. |