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NO, THAT CAN NEVER RE.
When fancy fails, with straining eye,
Twin treasure of the picture seem
Those folded lines. In hopeful dream
Or breathe they of the sad farewell?
Yet wherefore ask? On that sweet face
For o'er thy brow of pensive shade
The mystic sign of hope delayed
Are held those lines? 'Tis that no more
Thou need'st to scan their music o'er;
Have proved the charm of many a day;
Repeated oft, repeated still,
Through many a lonely hour, until
They're turned by love's fond alchemy
To gold, within thy memory.
NO, THAT CAN NEVER BE!
ES! I must leave-Oh, yes!
But not the thoughts of thee;
For that can never be !
To absence, loneliness,
"Tis vain-'tis vain to flee;
I see thee not the less,
When memory's shades I see ;
The rising thoughts of thee?
No, that can never be!
Yet must I leave; the grave
I other than a slave
To thy strange witchery
Can never, never be!
From the Spanish of Alonzo de Castagena.
SAW that lovely cheek grow wan and pale
Yielding to lilies wan its empire proud,
And saw, with joy elate, by sorrow bowed,
How from those eyes the pearls and crystal fell.