Song.

And hast thou marked the pensive shade,
    That many a time obscures my brow,
Midst all the joys, beloved maid.
    Which thou canst give, and only thou?

Oh! 'tis not that I then forget
    The bright looks that before me shine;
For never throbbed a bosom yet
    Could feel their witchery, like mine.

When bashful on my bosom hid,
    And blushing to have felt so blest,
Thou dost but lift thy languid lid
    Again to close it on my breast;--

Yes,--these are minutes all thine own,
    Thine own to give, and mine to feel;
Yet even in them, my heart has known
    The sigh to rise, the tear to steal.

For I have thought of former hours,
    When he who first thy soul possest,
Like me awaked its witching powers,
    Like me was...

Take back the sigh, thy lips of art
In passion's moment breathed to me;
Yet, no--it must not, will not part,
'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,
And has become too pure for thee.

Take back the kiss, that faithless sigh
    With all the warmth of truth imprest;
Yet, no--the fatal kiss may lie,
Upon thy lip its sweets would die,
    Or bloom to make a rival blest.

Take back the vows that, night and day,
    My heart received, I thought, from thine;
Yet, no--allow them still to stay,
They might some other heart betray,
    As sweetly as they've ruined mine.

If, after all, you still will doubt and fear me,
    And think this heart to other loves will stray,
If I must swear, then, lovely doubter, hear me;
    By every dream I have when thou'rt away,
By every throb I feel when thou art near me,
    I love but thee--I love but thee!

By those dark eyes, where light is ever playing,
    Where Love in depth of shadow holds his throne,
And by those lips, which give whate'er thou'rt saying,
    Or grave or gay, a music of its own,
A music far beyond all minstrel's playing,
    I love but thee--I love but thee!

By that fair brow, where Innocence reposes,
    As pure as moonlight sleeping upon snow,
And by that cheek, whose fleeting blush discloses
    A hue too bright to bless this world below,
And only fit to ...

[1]


Mary, I believed thee true,
    And I was blest in thus believing
But now I mourn that e'er I knew
    A girl so fair and so deceiving.
        Fare thee well.

Few have ever loved like me,--
    Yes, I have loved thee too sincerely!
And few have e'er deceived like thee.--
    Alas! deceived me too severely.

Fare thee well!--yet think awhile
    On one whose bosom bleeds to doubt thee:
Who now would rather trust that smile,
    And die with thee than live without thee.

Fare thee well! I'll think of thee.
    Thou leavest me many a bitter token;
For see, distracting woman, see,
    My peace is gone, my heart is broken!--
        Fare thee well!

When he, who adores thee, has left but the name
    Of his fault and his sorrows behind,
Oh! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame
    Of a life that for thee was resigned?
Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn,
    Thy tears shall efface their decree;
For Heaven can witness, tho' guilty to them,
    I have been but too faithful to thee.

With thee were the dreams of my earliest love;
    Every thought of my reason was thine;
In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above,
    Thy name shall be mingled with mine.
Oh! blest are the lovers and friend who shall live
    The days of thy glory to see;
But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give
    Is the pride of thus dying for thee.

TO .... ....


No--Lady! Lady! keep the ring:
    Oh! think, how many a future year,
Of placid smile and downy wing,
    May sleep within its holy sphere.

Do not disturb their tranquil dream,
    Though love hath ne'er the mystery warmed;
Yet heaven will shed a soothing beam,
    To bless the bond itself hath formed.

But then, that eye, that burning eye,--
    Oh! it doth ask, with witching power,
If heaven can ever bless the tie
    Where love inwreaths no genial flower?

Away, away, bewildering look,
    Or all the boast of virtue's o'er;
Go--hie thee to the sage's book,
    And learn from him to feel no more.

I cannot warn thee: every touch,
    That brings my pulses close to thine,
Tells me I want thy aid as ...