Page images

A breath of May, and of the wood's repose;

For I in sooth depart,

With a reluctant heart,

That fain would linger where the bright sun glows.

Fain would I stay with thee

Alas! this may not be ;

Yet bring me still the gifts of happier hours!

Go where the fountain's breast

Catches in glassy rest

The dim green light that pours thro' laurel bowers.

I know how softly bright,

Steep'd in that tender light,

The water-lilies tremble there ev'n now;

Go to the pure stream's edge,

And from its whisp'ring sedge,

Bring me those flowers to cool my fever'd brow!

Then, as in Hope's young days,

Track thou the antique maze

Of the rich garden to its grassy mound;

There is a lone white rose,

Shedding, in sudden snows,

Its faint leaves o'er the emerald turf around.

Well know'st thou that fair tree

A murmur of the bee

Dwells ever in the honey'd lime above;

Bring me one pearly flower

Of all its clustering shower

For on that spot we first reveal'd our love.

Gather one woodbine bough,

Then, from the lattice low

Of the bower'd cottage which I bade thee mark,

When by the hamlet last,

Thro' dim wood-lanes we pass'd,

While dews were glancing to the glow-worm's spark.

Haste! to my pillow bear
Those fragrant things and fair;

My hand no more may


bind them up

Yet shall their odour soft

at eve,

One bright dream round me waft

Of life, youth, summer,-all that I must leave!

And oh! if thou would'st ask

Wherefore thy steps I task,

grove, the stream, the hamlet-vale to trace ; 'Tis that some thought of me,

When I am gone, may be

The spirit bound to each familiar place.

I bid mine image dwell,

(Oh! break not thou the spell!)

In the deep wood, and by the fountain-side;

Thou must not, my


Rove where we two have rov'd,

Forgetting her that in her spring-time died!


Give me but

Something whereunto I may bind my heart;
Something to love, to rest upon, to clasp
Affection's tendrils round.

WOULDST thou wear the gift of immortal bloom?

Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb?
Drink of this cup! it is richly fraught
With balm from the gardens of Genii brought ;
Drink, and the spoiler shall pass thee by,

When the young

all scatter'd like rose-leaves lie.

And would not the youth of my soul be gone,
If the lov'd had left me, one by one?
Take back the cup that may never bless,

The gift that would make me brotherless!
How should I live, with no kindred eye
To reflect mine immortality?

Wouldst thou have empire, by sign or spell,

Over the mighty in air that dwell?

Wouldst thou call the spirits of shore and steep
To fetch thee jewels from ocean's deep?
Wave but this rod, and a viewless band
Slaves to thy will, shall around thee stand.

And would not fear, at my coming then,
Hush every voice in the homes of men?
Would not bright eyes in my presence quail?
Young checks with a nameless thrill turn pale?
No gift be mine that aside would turn
The human love for whose founts I yearn!

Wouldst thou then read thro' the hearts of those Upon whose faith thou hast sought repose? Wear this rich gem! it is charm'd to show When a change comes over affection's glow; Look on its flushing or fading hue,

And learn if the trusted be false or true!

« PreviousContinue »