TO THYRZA.

WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot,

And say, what truth might well have said,

By all, save one, perchance forgot,

Ah, whererefore art thou lowly laid?

By many a shore and many a sea
Divided, yet beloved in vain;
The past, the future fled to thee

To bid us meet - no ne'er again!

That softly said, "We part in peace," Had taught my bosom how to brook,

With fainter sighs, thy soul's release.

And didst thou not, since Death for thee
Prepared a light and pangless dart,
Once long for him thou ne'er shall see,

Who held, and holds thee in his heart?

Oh! who like him had watched thee here?
Or sadly marked thy glazing eye,
In that dread hour ere death appear,
When silent sorrow fears to sigh,

Till all was past? But when no more
"T was thine to reck of human woe,
Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er,
Had flowed as fast as now they flow.

Shall they not flow, when many a day
In these, to me, deserted towers,
Ere called but for a time away,

Affection's mingling tears were ours?

Ours too the glance none saw beside;
The smile none else might understand;
The whispered thought of hearts allied,
The pressure of the thrilling hand;

The kiss, so guiltless and refined

That Love each warmer wish forbore, Those eyes proclaimed so pure a mind, Even passion blushed to plead for more.

The tone, that taught me to rejoice,
When prone, unlike thee to repine;
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!

Well hast thou left in life's blest bloom
The cup of woe for me to drain,
If rest alone be in the tomb,

I would not wish thee here again;

But if in worlds more blest than this

Thy virtues seek a fitter sphere, Impart some portion of thy bliss,

To wean me from mine anguish here.

Teach me

too early taught by thee!
To bear, forgiving and forgiven.
On earth thy love was such to me;

It fain would form my hope in heaven!

SONNET.

TO GENEVRA.

THINE eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair,
And the wan lustre of thy features - caught
From contemplation - where serenely wrought,
Seems Sorrow's softness charmed from its despair-
Have thrown such speaking sadness in thine air,

That but I know thy blessed bosom fraught

With mines of unalloyed and stainless thought — I should have deemed thee doomed to earthly care. With such an aspect, by his colors blent

When from his beauty-breathing pencil oorn, (Except that thou hast nothing to repent,)

The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn

Such seem'st thou - but how much more excellent! With naught Remorse can claim, nor Virtue scorn.

STANZAS.

AWAY, away, ye notes of woe,

Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
Or I must flee from hence, for, oh!

I dare not trust those sounds again.
To me they speak of brighter days
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
I must not think, I may not gaze

On what I am on what I was.

The voice that made those sounds more sweet
Is hushed, and all their charms are fled;
And now their softest notes repeat

A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
And all that once was harmony

Is worse than discord to my heart!

"Tis silent all! - but on my ear

The well-remembered echoes thrill;

I hear a voice I would not hear,

A voice that now might well be still;
Yet oft my doubting soul 't will shake;
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.

Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,

Then turned from earth its tender beam.
But he, who through life's dreary way

Must pass, when heaven is veiled in wrath, Will long lament the vanished ray That scattered gladness o'er his path.

ΤΟ

OH Lady! when I left the shore,

The distant shore, which gave me birth,
I hardly thought to grieve once more,
To quit another spot on earth:

Yet here, amidst this barren isle,
Where panting Nature droops the head,
Where only thou art seen to smile,

I view my parting hour with dread.

Though far from Albin's craggy shore,
Divided by the dark blue main,
A few brief, rolling seasons o'er,
Perchance I view her cliffs again:

But wheresoe'er I now may roam,
Through scorching clime, and varied sea,
Though Time restore me to my home,
I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee: