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Which tells me, Youth's no longer here !
Dew-drops are the gems of morning,
When we are old :
A DAY DREAM. My eyes make pictures, when they are shut :
I see a fountain, large and fair, A willow and a ruined hut,
And thee, and me, and Mary there.
O Mary! make thy gentle lap our pillow!
A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed,
And that and summer well agree ; And lo! where Mary leans her head,
Two dear names carved upon the tree! And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow; Our sister and our friend will both be here to
'Twas day! But now few, large, and bright
The stars are round the crescent moon! And now it is a dark warm night.
The balmiest of the month of June! A glow-worm fallen, and on the marge remounting Shines and its shadow shines, fit stars for our sweet
O ever-ever be thou blest!
For dearly, Asra, love I thee!
This depth of tranquil bliss—ah me!
The shadows dance upon the wall,
By the still dancing fire-flames made; And now they slumber, moveless all !
And now they melt to one deep shade! But not from me shall this mild darkness steal thee : I dream thee with mine eyes, and at my heart I feel
Thine eyelash on my cheek doth play
'Tis Mary's hand upon my brow ! But let me check this tender lay
Whith none may hear but she and thou ! Like the still hive at quiet midnight humming, Murmur it to yourselves, ye two beloved women!
FIRST ADVENT OF LOVE
O FAIR is Love's first hope to gentle mind !
As Eve's first star thro’ fleecy cloudlet peeping ; And sweeter than the gentle south-west wind, O'er willowy meads and shadowed waters creeping, And Ceres' golden fields :—the sultry hind Meets it with brow uplift, and stays his reaping.
ASKED my fair, one happy day,
Arethusa, or Lucrece.
“ Ah!" replied my gentle fair,
Choose thou whatever suits the line ;
Only, only call me Thine.”
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP OPPOSITE.
HER attachment may differ from yours in degree,
Provided they are both of one kind; But friendship how tender soever it be
Gives no accord to Love, however refined.
Love, that meets not with Love, its true nature re
vealing, Grows ashamed of itself, and demurs : If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling,
You must lower down your state to hers.
NOT AT HOME.
Where Love could never be
Love without Jealousy.
She has a strange cast in her ee,
A swart sour-visaged maid-
His house-mate and his shade.
Ask for her and she'll be denied :
What then ? they only mean
And can't just then be seen.
TO A LADY,
OFFENDED BY A SPORTIVE OBSERVATION THAT
WOMEN HAVE NO SOULS.
NAY, dearest Anna! why so grave ?
I said you had no soul, 'tis true! For what you are, you cannot have;
'Tis I, that have one since I first had you !
I HAVE heard of reasons manifold
Why Love must needs be blind, But this the best of all I hold
His eyes are in his mind.
What outward form and feature are
He guesseth but in part;
He seeth with the heart.
HE EAR, sweet spirit, hear the spell,
Lest a blacker charm compel ! So shall the midnight breezes swell With thy deep long-lingering knell,