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Mine eyes like wintry streams o’erflow:
What wretch with me would barter woe?
My bird! relent: one note could give
A charm, to bid iliy lover live.

9. My curdling blood, my maddning brain,' In silent anguish I sustain; And still thy bicart, without partaking One pang, exults — while mine is breaking.

10.

Pour me the poison; fear not thou!
Thou canst not murder more than now:
I've lived to curse my natal day,
And Love, that thus can lingering slay.

My wounded soul, my bleeding breast,
Can patience preach thee into rest?,
Alas! too late, I dearly know,
That joy is harbinger of woe.

VOL. IV.

XXVI.

A SONG

Thou art not falsc, but thon art fickle,

To those thyself so fondly sought;
Tlie tears that thou hast forced to trickle

Are doubly bitter from that thought: 'Tis this which breaks the heart thon grierest, Too well thon lov'st - too soon thou leavest.

2. The wholiy false the heart despises,

And spurns deceiver and deceit; But she who not a thought disguises,

Whose love is as sincere as sweet, When she can change who loved so truly, It feels what mine has felt so newly.

To dream of joy and wake to sorrow

Is doomed to all who love or live;
And if, when conscious on the morrow,

Wc scarce our fancy can forgive,
That cheated us in slumber only,
To leave the waking soul more lonely.

4. . What must they feel whom no false vision, ..

But truest, tenderest passion warmed ? Sincere, but swift in sad transition,

As if a dream alone had charmed? In: Al! sure such grief is fancy's scheming,4,5, And all thy change can be but dreaming!

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On being asked what was the Origin of Love?"

THE "Origin of Love!" - Ah why

That crucl question ask of me, so
When thou may'st read in many an eye

He starts to life on seeing thee? :
And should'st thou seek his end to know:

My heart forebodes, my fears foresee',
He'll linger long in silent woe;

But live -- until I cease to be.

XXVIII,

Remember him, etc.

REMEMBER him, whom passion's power

Severely, deeply, vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour

When neither fell, though both were loved. :

That yielding breast; that melting eye,

Too much invited to be blest:
That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh,

The wilder wish reproved, represta

3.

Oh! let me feel that all I lost, . '

But saved thee all that conscience fears; And blush for every pang it cost

To spare the vain remorse of years. ..

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