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Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down;
It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.
Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest;
"Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath.
Oh could I feel as I have felt,- --or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanish'd scene:
As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be,
So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would
flow to me.
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
THERE be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me: When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean's pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lulled winds seem dreaming.
And the midnight moon is weaving
So the spirit bows before thee,
To listen and adore thee;
With a full but soft emotion,
Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
FARE THEE WELL.
"Alas! they had been friends in Youth;
"And Life is thorny; and youth is vain :
"To free the hollow heart from paining-
"But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder
"The marks of that which once hath been.
FARE thee well! and if for ever,
Even though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain,
While that placid sleep camè o'er thee
Though the world for this commend thee
Though it smile upon the blow,
Even its praises must offend thee,
Though my many faults defaced me,
Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not;
Still thine own its life retaineth
Still must mine, though bleeding, beat;
And when thou wouldst solace gather,
Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee,
Should her lineaments resemble
Those thou never more may'st see,
Sear'd in heart, and lone, and blighted-
"If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."
BORN in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;