Now sad is the garden of roses, Beloved but false Haideé! There Flora all wither'd reposes, And mourns o'er thine absence with me. WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE. 1. DEAR object of defeated care! Though now of Love and thee bereft, To reconcile me with despair Thine image and my tears are left. 2. "Tis said with Sorrow Time can cope; For by the death-blow of my Hope ON PARTING. 1. THE kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left, Till happier hours restore the gift Untainted back to thine. 2. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, An equal love may see: The tear that from thine eyelid streams Can weep no change in 'me. 3. I ask no pledge to make me blest In gazing when alone; Nor one memorial for a breast, Whose thoughts are all thine own. 4. Nor need I write-to tell the tale Unless the heart could speak? 5. By day or night, in weal or woe, Must bear the love it cannot show, VOL. IV. TO THYRZA. WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot, And say, what Truth might well have said, By all, save one, perchance forgot, Ah, wherefore art thou lowly laid ? By many a shore and many a sea To bid us meet-no-ne'er again! Once long for him thou ne'er shalt see, Who held, and holds thee in his heart? Till all was past? But when no more Affection's mingling tears were ours? That Love each warmer wish forbore; Those eyes proclaim'd so pure a mind, Even passion blush'd to plead for more. The tone, that taught me to rejoice, The song, celestial from thy voice, But sweet to me from none but thine; The pledge we wore I wear it still, But where is thine ?-ah, where art thou? Oft have I borne the weight of ill, But never bent beneath till now! |