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With woe I nightly vigils keep,
Beneath thy wan unwarming beam; And mourn in lamentation deep,
How life and love are all a dream.
The faintly-marked distant hill:
Reflected in the gurgling rill : My fondly-fluttering heart, be still!
Thou busy pow'r, Remembrance, cease! Ah! must the agonizing thrill
For ever bar returning peace!
III. No idly-feign'd poetic pains,
My sad, love-lorn lamentings claim ; No shepherd's pipe-Arcadian strains ;
No fabled tortures, quaint and tame : The plighted faith ; the mutual flame;
The oft-attested pow'rs above; The promis'd father's tender name ;
These were the pledges of my love!
IV. Encircled in her clasping arms,
How have the raptur'd moments flown! How have I wish'd for fortune's charms,
For her dear sake, and her's alone! And must I think it! is she gone,
My secret heart's exulting boast ? And does she heedless hear my groan?
And is she ever, ever lost?
So lost to honour, lost to truth,
Alas! life's path may be unsmooth !
Her way may lie thro' rough distress! Then, who her pangs and pains will soothe,
Her sorrows share, and make them less ?
Enraptur'd more, the more enjoy'd,
My fondly-treasur'd thoughts employ'd. That breast how dreary now, and void,
For her too scanty once of room ! Ev'n ev'ry ray of hope destroy'd,
And not a wish to gild the gloom !
Awakes me up to toil and woe:
That I must suffer, lingering, slow. Full many a pang, and many a throe,
Keen Recollection's direful train, Must wring my soul, ere Phæbus, low,
Shall kiss the distant, western main.
Sore-harassid out with care and grief,
Keep watchings with the nightly thief : Or if I slumber, Fancy, chief,
Reigns haggard-wild, in sore affright: Ev'n day all-bitter brings relief,
From such a horror-breathing night.
IX. 0! thou bright queen, who o'er th’expanse,
Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway! Oft has thy silent-marking glance
Observ'd us fondly-wand'ring, stray!
The time, unheeded, sped away,
While love's luxurious pulse beat high, Beneath thy silver-gleaming ray
To mark the mutual kindling eye.
X. Oh! scenes in strong remembrance set !
Scenes, never, never, to return! Scenes, if in stupor I forget,
Again I feel, again I burn! From ev'ry joy and pleasure torn,
Life's weary vale I'll wander thro'; And hopeless, comfortless, I'll mourn
A faithless woman's broken Vow.
I sit me down and sigh :
To wretches such as I!
What sick’ning scenes appear !
Must be my bitter doom ;
But with the closing tomb!
No other view regard !
They bring their own reward :
Unfitted with an aim,
Forget each grief and pain;
Within his humble cell,
Beside his crystal well!
By unfrequented stream,
His thoughts to heav'n on high,
He views the solemn sky.
Less fit to play the part;
With self-respecting art:
Which I too keenly taste,
Or human love or hate,
At perfidy ingrate!
To care, to guilt unknown!
Of others, or my own!
Like linnets in the bush,
That active man engage !
Of dim-declining age!
And hail and rain does blaw;
The blinding sleet and snaw :
And roars frae bank to brae ; And bird and beast in covert rest
And pass the heartless day.
The joyless winter-day,
Than all the pride of May:
My griefs it seems to join,
帶 Dr. Young