FAIRY FAVOURS. -Give me but Something whereunto I may bind my heart; WOULDST thou wear the gift of immortal bloom? Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb? Drink of this cup! it is richly fraught With balm from the gardens of Genii brought; Drink, and the spoiler shall pass thee by, When the young all scatter'd like rose-leaves lie. And would not the youth of my soul be gone, The gift that would make me brotherless! To reflect mine immortality? Wouldst thou have empire, by sign or spell, Over the mighty in air that dwell? Wouldst thou call the spirits of shore and steep And would not fear, at my coming then, The human love for whose founts I yearn! Wouldst thou then read thro' the hearts of those Upon whose faith thou hast sought repose? Wear this rich gem! it is charm'd to show When a change comes over affection's glow ; Look on its flushing or fading hue, And learn if the trusted be false or true! Keep, keep the gem, that I still may trust, Tho' my heart's wealth be but pour'd on dust! To dim the light of a lov'd one's face ; Say then what boon of my power shall be Thou wilt not drink of the cup divine, Thou art fain with a mortal's lot to rest- Answer me! how may I grace it best? Oh! give me no sway o'er the powers unseen, Whose thoughts' free current with mine may blend, Bid the bright calm close of our lives be one! A PARTING SONG. "Oh! mes Amis, rappelez vous quelquefois mes vers; mon ame y est empreinte."--CORINNE. WHEN Will ye think of me, my friends? When will ye think of me ?- When the last red light, the farewell of day, When the air with a deep'ning hush is fraught, And the heart grows burden'd with tender thought- When will ye think of me, kind friends? When will ye think of me ? When the rose of the rich midsummer time Is fill'd with the hues of its glorious prime ; From the walks where my footsteps no more may tread; Then let it be ! When will ye think of me, sweet friends? When will ye think of me? When the sudden tears o'erflow your eye At the sound of some olden melody; When ye hear the voice of a mountain stream, When ye feel the charm of a poet's dream ; |