The cup must hold a deadlier draught,
That brings a Lethe for despair.
And could Oblivion set my soul

From all her troubled visions free,
I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl
That drown'd a single thought of thee.

4.

For wert thou vanish'd from my mind,
Where could my vacant bosom turn?
And who would then remain behind
To honour thine abandon'd Urn?
No, No-it is my sorrow's pride
That last dear duty to fulfil;
Though all the world forget beside,
'Tis meet that I remember still.

5.

For well I know, that such had been
Thy gentle care for him, who now
Unmourn'd shall quit this mortal scene,
Where none regarded him, but thou:

And, Oh! I feel in that was given
A blessing never meant for me;

Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven,
For earthly Love to merit thee.

March 14th, 1812.

ON A CORNELIAN HEART WHICH WAS

BROKEN.

1.

ILL-FATED Heart! and can it be

That thou shouldst thus be rent in twain? Have years of care for thine and thee

Alike been all employ'd in vain?

2.

Yet precious seems each shatter'd part,
And every fragment dearer grown,
Since he who wears thee, feels thou art
A fitter emblem of his own.

[This poem and the following were written some years ago.]

FEW

TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND.

1.

years have pass'd since thou and I Were firmest friends, at least in name,

And childhood's gay sincerity

6

Preserved our feelings long the same.

2.

But now, like me, too well thou know'st What trifles oft the heart recall;

And those who once have loved the most Too soon forget they loved at all.

3.

And such the change the heart displays,
So frail is early friendship's reign,
A month's brief lapse, perhaps a day's,
Will view thy mind estranged again.

4.

If so, it never shall be mine

To mourn the loss of such a heart ; The fault was Nature's fault, not thine, Which made thee fickle as thou art.

5.

As rolls the ocean's changing tide,
So human feelings ebb and flow;
And who would in a breast confide
Where stormy passions ever glow?

6.

It boots not, that together bred,
Our childish days were days of joy;
My spring of life has quickly fled;
Thou, too, hast ceased to be a boy.

7.

And when we bid adieu to youth,
Slaves to the specious world's control,

We sigh a long farewell to truth;

That world corrupts the noblest soul.

8.

Ah, joyous season! when the mind
Dares all things boldly but to lie;
When thought ere spoke is unconfined,
And sparkles in the placid eye.

9.

Not so in Man's maturer years,

When Man himself is but a tool;

When interest sways our hopes and fears, And all must love and hate by rule.

VOL. V.

N

10.

With fools in kindred vice the same,
We learn at length our faults to blend,
And those, and those alone may claim
The prostituted name of friend.

11.

Such is the common lot of man:
Can we then 'scape from folly free?

Can we reverse the general plan,

Nor be what all in turn must be?

12.

No, for myself, so dark my fate
Through every turn of life hath been;

Man and the world I so much hate,
I care not when I quit the scene.

13.

But thou, with spirit frail and light,
Wilt shine awhile and pass away;
As glow-worms sparkle through the night,
But dare not stand the test of day.