While gazing on that smile of thine,
And living in thy love alone.
But fate decrees that we should part;
Yet still in kindness let it be:
Thou wilt not find a truer heart,
Nor I seek other love than thee.
Then oh! farewell! I would not shade
Thy coming bliss, with my dark fate;
Nor ask thy thoughts to share, dear maid!
The griefs that on my wanderings wait.
When death shall calm this throbbing breast,
(Glad would I now his terrors brave,)
Thou wilt not scorn my lowly rest,
But shed one tear above my grave.
One tender tear, still fondly true
To youthful loves, in days of yore,
To blighted hopes and sorrows due;
Then turn, and think of me no more.
Oh! ask not the cause why so oft I retire,
If, secret, I weep o'er the days that are past;
You see me now cheerful, then do not require
That joys like the present forever should last.
When others are happy, I join in their mirth,
I feel that their pleasure gives pleasure to me;
But further than this, I expect not, on earth,
Nor hope, like the past, that the future will be.
For he that has once loved can ne'er love again;
The face may, at times, with a smile be o'erspread, The wound may be closed, but the scar will remain, And the heart in the midst of its pleasures lie dead.
Then blame not the sadness that sometimes is seen, In moments of mirth, o'er my features to steal; Full soon will it pass, and my brow grow serene, The smile will return, and my heart cease to feel.
Shade of my Henry! hast thou gone,
And left thy loved one here alone.
Ah! when that fatal parting past,
I little deemed 'twould prove our last.
We parted thou o'er ocean borne,
And I to weep till thy return
Till thy return! in vain, alas,
I chide the hours that slowly pass,
And fondly hope these arms, once more,
May clasp thee, on thy native shore
Never, unless in dreams, by night,
Thy form should come, to cheat my sight, And in thy watery shroud repair
From ocean's caves to realms of air.
Yet come not so; I could not brook
One moment on that form to look k;
That livid cheek, and pallid brow,
Oh! I could not endure it now.
But come, as when, in warmth of youth,
We pledged our mutual love and truth;
And vowed, by all that lovers prize,
Time ne'er should break those tender ties ;
And life itself should sooner part,
Than each loved image from the heart.
Then come once more; and, for a while,
Thy presence shall my tears beguile ;
And, in my joy, I may forget
Tis but a dream, and clasp thee yet.
The world's neglect, that bore thee down,
Ne'er drew from me one angry frown;
And when o'erlooked by all beside,
Thou wert my hope, my joy, my pride.
Howe'er unworthy in their view,
To me thou still wert kind and true;
And I will to thy memory be
As kind and true as thou to me;
For to the last, 'gainst others' will,
I loved thee, and I love thee still.
E'en time, that brings to all relief,
May sooth, but cannot cure my grief;
For there are thoughts will not depart,
Words that are written on the heart,
And lines of love, so deeply traced,
They will not, cannot be effaced.
How fair soe'er the future scene,
It will not be as it has been.
The plant of love, in life's frail bower,
Mid many leaves, bears but one flower;
The hand that crops that opening gem,
Leaves but a bare and barren stem;
For though, in time, fresh boughs may shoot,
And leaves put forth, they bear no fruit.
Love only in warm bosoms thrives;
And, blighted once, no more revives.
Spring is but the child
Of churlish Winter; in her froward moods,
Discovering much the temper of her sire.
In milder climes, the charms of May
Wax wanton in the poet's lay:
When verdure springs, and flowers unfold,
Her praise is sung, her beauties told,
With us, alas! not seen so soon,
The month of flowers is fragrant June:
Not sooner winter chills are fled;
Or, if at times unfelt, we dread
Their quick return; nor safe repose,
Till June unfolds the blushing rose,
And leads, once more, his feathery loves,
To warble in the new clad groves;
Or pauses, mid the flowers, to see
The humming bird, and honey bee,
And scent the garden's rich delight,
From lilac, and from hawthorn white,
From fleur de lis, and daffadil,
And fragrant currant's yellow bell;
While flowering almonds clustering twine
With snow-ball, and with columbine,
Mid honeysuckle's rich perfume,
And gaudy tulip's varied bloom.
Such opening flowers and foliage green,
To me make spring, whenever seen;
The only spring, 'twixt winter's snows,
And summer's heat, our climate knows :
All else is bleak December's sway,
Though cradled in the lap of May.
Then welcome be the flowery June,
Though slow to come, and passing soon :
Though slow to come, yet scattering wide
His bounties free, on every side;
Though parting soon, yet blithe of cheer,
The sweetest month in all the year.
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