7.

My light of life! ah, tell me why

That pouting lip, and alter'd eye?

My bird of love! my beauteous mate!

And art thou chang'd, and canst thou hate?

Mine

8.

eyes like wintry streams o'erflow:

What wretch with me would barter woe?

My bird! relent: one note could give

A charm, to bid thy lover live.

9.

My curdling blood, my madd'ning brain,

In silent anguish I sustain;

And still thy heart, without partaking

One

pang, exults-while mine is breaking.

10.

Pour me the poison; fear not thou!

Thou canst not murder more than now:

I've lived to curse my natal day,

And Love, that thus can lingering slay.

11.

My wounded soul, my bleeding breast,
Can patience preach thee into rest?

Alas! too late, I dearly know,

That joy is harbinger of woe.

XXVI.

A Song.

1.

THOU art not false, but thou art fickle,
To those thyself so fondly sought;

The tears that thou hast forc'd to trickle
Are doubly bitter from that thought:
"Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest,
Too well thou lov'st-too soon thou leavest.

2.

The wholly false the heart despises,
And spurns deceiver and deceit;

But her who not a thought disguises,
Whose love is as sincere as sweet,
When she can change who lov'd so truly,
It feels what mine has felt so newly.

3.

To dream of joy and wake to sorrow
Is doom'd to all who love or live;
And if, when conscious on the morrow,
We scarce our fancy can forgive,

That cheated us in slumber only,

To leave the waking soul more lonely,

4.

What must they feel whom no false vision, But truest, tenderest passion warm'd? Sincere, but swift in sad transition,

As if a dream alone had charm'd? Ah! sure such grief is fancy's scheming, And all thy change can be but dreaming!

XXVII.

On being asked what was the "Origin of Love?"

THE "Origin of Love!"-Ah why

That cruel question ask of me,

When thou may'st read in many an eye
He starts to life on seeing thee?

And should'st thou seek his end to know-
My heart forebodes, my fears foresee,

He'll linger long in silent woe;

But live-until I cease to be.

XXVIII.

Remember him, &c.

1.

REMEMBER him, whom passion's power

Severely, deeply, vainly proved:

Remember thou that dangerous hour

When neither fell, though both were loved.

S

2.

That yielding breast, that melting eye,
Too much invited to be blest:

That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh,
The wilder wish reprov'd, repress'd.

3.

Oh! let me feel that all I lost

But saved thee all that conscience fears;

And blush for every pang it cost

To spare the vain remorse of years.

4.

Yet think of this when many a tongue,
Whose busy accents whisper blame,

Would do the heart that loved thee wrong,
And brand a nearly blighted name.

5.

Think that, whate'er to others, thou

Hast seen each selfish thought subdu'd:

I bless thy purer soul even now,

Even now, in midnight solitude.