Accomplished not; such dreams of baseless good And leave no trace but what I now designed Made for long years impression on my mind. The following morning urged by my affairs After many years And many changes I returned; the name Of Venice, and it's aspect was the same ; His dog was dead. His child had now become Received her father's friend; and when I asked "Looked meek—perhaps remorse had brought her low. "Her coming made him better, and they stayed "Together at my father's for I played "As I remember with the lady's shawl "I might be six years old — but after all "She left him " "Why, her heart must have been tough: ... "How did it end?" "And was not this enough? "They met they parted"-"Child, is there no more?" 66 Something within that interval which bore "The stamp of why they parted, how they met : "Yet if thine agèd eyes disdain to wet "Those wrinkled cheeks with youth's remembered tears, "Ask me no more, but let the silent years “Be closed and cered over their memory 66 As yon mute marble where their corpses lie." I urged and questioned still, she told me how All happened - but the cold world shall not know. SONG, ON A FADED VIOLET. I. THE odour from the flower is gone, Which like thy kisses breathed on me ; The colour from the flower is flown, Which glowed of thee, and only thee! II. A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, It lies on my abandoned breast, And mocks the heart which yet is warm With cold and silent rest. III. I weep― my tears revive it not ! I sigh it breathes no more on me; Its mute and uncomplaining lot Is such as mine should be. STANZAS. WRITTEN IN DEJECTION, NEAR NAPLES. I. THE sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon's transparent might, The breath of the moist earth is light, Around its unexpanded buds; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds, the birds, the ocean floods, The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. II. I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweed strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown: The lightning of the noon-tide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. III. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around, Nor that content surpassing wealth The sage in meditation found, And walked with inward glory crowned – Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround Smiling they live and call life pleasure ; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. IV. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; Which I have borne and yet must bear, V. Some might lament that I were cold, |