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 forgiv'n:

On earth thy love was such to me;

It fain would form my hope in heav'n!

XIII.

STANZA S.

1.

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.

2.

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!

3.

but on my ear

The well-remembered echoes thrill;
I hear a voice I would not hear,

À voice that now might well be still,
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake:
Ev'n slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.

4.

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,
Will long lament the vanished ray

when heav'n is veiled in wrath

That scattered gladness o'er his path.

XIV.

ΤΟ THYRZ A.

1.

ONE struggle more, and I am free

From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee,

Then back to busy life again.

It suits me well to mingle now

With things that never pleased before: Though every joy is fled below,

What future grief can touch me more?

2.

with none.

Then bring me wine, the banquet bring;
Man was not formed to live alone:
I'll be that light unmeaning thing
That smiles with all, and weeps
It was not thus in days more dear,
It never would have been; but thou
Hast fled, and left me lonely here;
Thou'rt nothing, all are nothing now.

VOL. IV.

D.

3.

In vain my lyre would lightly breathe!
The smile that sorrow fain would wear
But mocks the woe that lurks beneath,
Like roses o'er a sepulchre.
Though gay companions o'er the bowl
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;

Though pleasure fires the madd'ning soul,

The heart

the heart is lonely still!

4.

On many a lone and lovely night
It soothed to gaze upon the sky;
For then I deemed the heav'nly light
Shone sweetly on thy pensive eye;
And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon,
When sailing o'er the Aegean wave,
Now Thyrza gazes on that moon"

Alas, it gleamed upon her grave!

When stretched on fever's sleepless bed, And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins, "Tis comfort still," I faintly said,

"That Thyrza cannot know my pains:"