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And who that dear loved one may be
Is not for vulgar eyes to see;

And why that early love was cross'd,
Thou know'st the best, I feel the most;
But few that dwell beneath the sun
Have loved so long, and loved but one.

I've tried another's fetters too,
With charms perchance as fair to view;
And I would fain have loved as well,
But some unconquerable spell
Forbade my bleeding breast to own
A kindred care for aught but one.

"Twould soothe to take one lingering view,
And bless thee in my last adieu;
Yet wish I not those eyes to weep
For him that wanders o'er the deep;
Though wheresoe'er my bark may run,
I love but thee, I love but one.

LORD BYRON.

ELEGY. TO LAURA.

YET once again, in yonder myrtle bowers, [fume,
Whence rose-lipp'd zephyrs, hovering, shed per-
I weave the painted radiance of the flowers,
And press coy Nature in her days of bloom.

Shall she, benignant, to the wandering eyes
Of the lone hermit all her charms unfold?
Or, gemm'd with dew, bid her gay florets rise
To grace the rustic master of the fold?

Shall these possess her bright, her fragrant store,
These snatch the wreath,by plastic Nature wove;
Nor wanton summer yield one garland more
To grace the bosom of the nymph I love?

For she shall come; with her each sister-grace,
With her the kindred powers of harmony,
The deep recesses of the grove shall trace,

And hang with flowers each consecrated tree. Blithe Fancy too shall spread her glittering plumes, She loves the white cliffs of Britannia's isle, She loves the spot where infant Genius blooms, She loves the spot where Peace and Freedom smile.

Unless her aid the mimic queen bestow,

In vain fresh garlands the low vales adorn:
In vain with brighter tints the flowerets glow,
Or dewdrops sparkle on the brow of morn.

Opes not one blossom to the spicy gale, [wide,
Throws not one elm its moss-wreath'd branches
Wanders no rill through the luxuriant vale,
Or, glistening, rushes down the mountain side,

But thither, with the morning's earliest ray,
Fancy has wing'd her ever mazy flight,
To hymn wild carols to returning day,

And catch the fairest beams of orient light.

Proud of the theft she mounts her lucid car,

Her car the rainbow's painted arch supplies; Her swift-wing'd steeds unnumber'd loves prepare, And countless zephyrs waft her through the skies.

There, while her bright wheels pause in cloudless

air,

She waves the magic sceptre of command,
And all her flattering visions, wild as fair,
Start into life beneath the potent wand.

Here, proudly nodding o'er the vale below,
High rocks of pearl reflect the morning ray,
Whence gushing streams of azure nectar flow,

And tinge the trickling herbage on their way.
There cull'd from every mountain, every plain,
Perennial flowers the ambient air perfume,
Far off stern Boreas holds his drear domain,
Nor chains the streams, nor blights the sacred
bloom.

Through all the year, in copse and tangled dale,
Lone Philomel her song to Venus pours,
What time pale Evening spreads the dewy veil,
What time the red Morn blushes on the shores.

Illusive visions! O, not here,-not here,

Does spring eternal hold her placid reign, Already Boreas chills the altering year, And blasts the purple daughters of the plain. So fade my promised joys!-fair scenes of bliss, Ideal scenes, too long believed in vain, Plunged down and swallow'd deep in Time's abyss!

So veering Chance and ruthless Fates ordain.

Thee, Laura, thee, by fount or mazy stream,

Or thicket rude, unpress'd by human feet, I sigh, unheeded, to the moon's pale beam; Thee, Laura, thee the echoing hills repeat.

Oh! long of billows wild and winds the sport,
Seize, seize the safe asylum that remains!
Here Truth, Love, Freedom, Innocence resort,
And offer long oblivion to thy pains.

When panting, gasping, breathless on the strand
The shipwreck'd mariner reclines his breast,
Say, shall he scorn the hospitable hand
That points to safety, liberty, and rest?
But thou, too soon forgetful of past woe,
Again wouldst tempt the winds and treacherous
Ah! shall the raging blast forget to blow,

[sea;

Shall every wintry storm be hush'd for thee? Not so! I dread the elemental war,

Too soon, too soon the calm, deceitful, flies; I hear the blast come whistling from afar, I see the tempest gathering in the skies. Yet let the tempest roar!-love scorns all harms, I plunge amid the storm, resolved to save; This hour, at least, I clasp thee in my arms, The next let ruin join us in the grave.

DAY.

ELEGY.

FLY, gentle steeds! o'er yon unfriendly towers
Malignant stars with baleful influence reign,
Cold Beauty's frown infects the cheerless hours,
And Avarice dwells in Love's polluted fane!
Dim distant towers! whose ample roof protects
All that my beating bosom holds so dear;
Far shining lakes! whose silver wave reflects,
Of Nature's fairest forms, the form most fair;

VOL. IV.

C

Groves! where at noon the sleeping beauty lies; Lawns! where at eve her grateful footsteps rove; For ye full oft have heard my secret sighs,

And caught, unseen, the tear of hopeless love; Farewell! a long farewell-your shades among No more these eyes shall drink Eliza's charms; No more these ears the music of her tongue!— O! doom'd for ever to another's arms! Fly, gentle steeds! my bleeding heart convey Where brighter scenes and milder planets shine; Where Joy's white pinion glitters in the ray, And Love sits smiling on his crystal shrine!

DARWIN.

TO A TUFT OF EARLY VIOLETS.

SWEET flowers! that from your humble beds
Thus prematurely dare to rise,
And trust your unprotected heads
To cold Aquarius' watery skies;
Retire! retire! These tepid airs

Are not the genial brood of May;
That sun with light malignant glares,
And flatters only to betray.

Stern Winter's reign is not yet pass'd—
Lo! while your buds prepare to blow,
On icy pinions comes the blast,

And nips your roots and lays you low

Alas, for such ungentle doom!

But I will shield you, and supply A kindlier soil on which to bloom, A nobler bed on which to die.

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