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And flattening its round cheek upon her knee,
VI. Then is she tenfold gladder than before ! But should disease or chance the darling take, What then avail those songs, which sweet of yore Were only sweet for their sweet echo's sake? Dear maid ! no prattler at a mother's knee Was e'er so dearly prized as I prize thee: Why was I made for Love and Love denied to me?
WE pledged our hearts, my love and I,
I in my arms the maiden clasping; I could not tell the reason why,
But, oh! I trembled like an aspen.
Her father's love she bade me gain;
I went, and shook like any reed ! I strove to act the man-in vain !
We had exchanged our hearts indeed.
* Literary Souvenir, 1826.
Lady. If Love be dead-Poet. And I aver it! Lady. Tell me, Bard ! where Love lies buried ?
Poet. Love lies buried where 'twas born :
THE SUICIDE'S ARGUMENT. ERE the birth of my life, if I wish'd it or no,
No question was ask'd me—it could not be so ! If the life was the question, a thing sent to try, And to live on be Yes; what can No be? to die.
NATURE'S ANSWER. Is't return'd, as 'twas sent? Is't no worse for the
wear? Think first, what you are ! Call to mind what you
were ! I gave you innocence, I gave you hope, Gave health, and genius, and an ample scope.
* The Amulet, 1833.
Return you me guilt, lethargy, despair ?
THE TWO FOUNTS.*
STANZAS ADDRESSED TO A LADY ON HER RECOVERY WITH UNBLEMISHED LOOKS, FROM A SEVERE
ATTACK OF PAIN. 'TWAS my last waking thought, how it could be t
That thou, sweet friend, such anguish shouldst
endure; When straight from Dreamland came a Dwarf,
and he Could tell the cause, forsooth, and knew the cure.
Methought he fronted me with peering look
In every heart (quoth he) since Adam's sin
Of Pleasure only will to all dispense,
* Annual Register, 1827; Bijou, 1828. + How can it be-A. R.
Choked or turn'd inward, but still issue thence
As on the driving cloud the shiny bow,
As though the spirits of all lovely flowers,
Even so, Eliza ! on that face of thine,
A beauty hovers still, and ne'er takes wing,
Who then needs wonder, if (no outlet found
Sleep, and the Dwarf with that unsteady gleam
* Fostering—1827-28 (probably a misprint).-ED.
Till audibly at length I cried, as though
In every look a barbed arrow send,
* Yes, yes ! that boon, life's richest treat,
The fancy made him glad !
But e'en the meteor offspring of the brain
* Printed in The Amulet, 1828, at the end of a Dialogue in Prose.