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Oft by that yew, on the blasted field,
Demons dance to the red moon's light;
Sings to the raving spirit of night!
SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY JULIA, ON THE DEATH OF HER BROTHER,
Though sorrow long has worn my heart;
Though every day I've counted 'o'er
To wounds that rankled fresh before ;
Of many a link by nature tied ;
Though friends betrayed, and foes belied;
After the sunset of delight;
We scarce can think it heralds night!
My weary heart at length should rest.
Find harbour in a brother's breast.
That brother's breast was warm with truth,
Was bright with honour's purest ray;
Oh! why then was he torn away?
To calm his Julia's every woe;
And not have caused those tears to flow.
In blooms of genius, nursed by taste;
Upon his brow her chaplet placed.
Enriched by all the graces dear;
In friendship firm, in love sincere.
Such were the hopes that fate ilenied-
How deep, how dearly, till he died !
Close as the fondest links could strain,
Twined with my very heart he grew; And by that fate which breaks the chain,
The heart is almost broken too!
A NIGHT THOUGHT.
Obscures yon bashful light,
Along the waste of night!
Obscure with malice keen
To live and die unseen!
Sic juvat perire.
How heavenly soft their slumbers lie!
To those who weep and long to die! Saw you the soft and grassy bed,
Where flowerets deck the green earth's breast? 'Tis there I wish to lay my head,
'Tis there I wish to sleep at rest! Oh! let not tears embalm my tomb,
None but the dews by twilight given ! Oh! let not sighs disturb the gloom,
None but the whispering winds of heaven!
and dreams at night,
Since both are anxious to be free;
If you will send back mine to me. We've had some happy hours together,
But joy must often change its wing ; And spring would be but gloomy weather,
If we had nothing else but spring. 'Tis not that I expect to find
A more devoted, fond, and true one, With rosier cheek or sweeter mind
Enough for me that she's a new one. Thus let us leave the bower of love,
Where we have loitered long in bliss; And you may down that pathway rove,
While I shall take my way through this. Our hearts have suffered little harm
In this short fever of desire; You have not lost a single charm,
Nor I one spark of feeling fire. My kisses have not stained the rose
Which Nature hung upon your lip; And still your sigh with nectar flows
For many a raptured soul to sip. Farewell ! and when some other fair
Shall call your wanderer to her arms, 'Twill be my luxury to compare
ller spells with your remembered charms “This cheek," I'll say, “is not so bright
As one that used to meet my kiss ; This eye has not such liquid light
As one that used to talk of bliss !” Farewell ! and when some future lover
Shall claim the heart which I resign, And in exulting joys discover
All the charms that once were mine;
If, in a soft imperfect sigh,
He loves not half so well as I !
A REFLECTION AT SEA.
Yon little billow heaves its breast,
And murmuring then subsides to rest.
Rises on Time's eventful sea,
Thus melts into eternity !
Whose heart can love without deceit,
sigh one moment at her feet.
What air receives her blessèd sigh,
one sparkle of her eye!
While truth within her bosom lies,
Till my heart leave me through my eyes!
I'll own all miracles are true ;
Oh ! 'tis the utmost Heaven can do!
Its look is so shifting and new
The very next glance would undo!
Such different arrows have got
Such as yours may be off in a shot !
Though each moment the treasure renews,
I may kiss off the oath when I choose !
The dew and the oath that are there !
To lose them so sweetly in air !
But clear up that heaven of your brow,
Nor fancy my faith is a feather ;
And they both must be broken together!
Whose heart is warmly bound to thee,
A heart as warm as heart can be.
Though many seemed my soul to share;
'Twas fancy when I thought them fair. E'en she, my muse's early theme,
Beguiled me only while she warmed ; 'Twas young Desire that fed the dream,
And reason broke what passion formed But thou-ah! better had it been
If I had still in freedom roved, If I had ne'er thy beauties seen,
For then I never should have loved ! Then all the pain which lovers feel
Had never to my heart been known; But, ah ! the joys which lovers steal,
Should they have ever been my own? Oh! trust me, when I swear thee this,
Dearest ! the pain of loving thee, The very pain, is sweeter bliss
Than passion's wildest ecstasy! That little cage I would not part,
In which my soul is prisoned now, For the most light and winged heart
That wantons on the passing vow. Still, my beloved ! still keep in mind,
However far removed from me, That there is one thou leavest behind,
Whose heart respires for only thee !
Thy fate unto another's care ;
Cannot confine the heart that's there.
By ties all other ties above, For I have wed it at a shrine
Where we have had no priest but Love !