Enough, after absence to meet me again,

Thy steps still with ecstacy move;

Enough, that those dear sober glances retain

For me the kind language of love!

HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS.

А РОЕМ,

IN SIX CANTOS.

HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS.

INTRODUCTION.

THERE is a mood of mind we all have known,
On drowsy eve, or dark and low'ring day,
When the tired spirits lose their sprightly tone,
And nought can chase the lingering hours away.
Dull on our soul falls Fancy's dazzling ray,

And Wisdom holds his steadier torch in vain,
Obscured the painting seems, mistuned the lay,
Nor dare we of our listless load complain,

For who for sympathy may seek that cannot tell of

pain?