SERENADE.

O sands, where oft at ease

Her careless footsteps stray!
Oh, if in field or plain

My love should hap to be,
Ask if her heart retain

A thought of me!

O warbling birds, that still
Salute the rising day,

And plain and valley fill

With your enchanting lay!

Oh, if in field or plain

My love should hap to be,

Ask if her heart retain

A thought of me!

From the Spanish.

SERENADE.

THILE my lady sleepeth

The dark blue heaven is bright;

Soft the moonbeam creepeth

Round her bower all night.

Thou gentle, gentle breeze!

While my lady slumbers,

Waft lightly through the trees.

Echoes of my numbers,

Her dreaming ear to please.

229

KNOW not, lady, by what nameless charm

Those looks, that voice, that smile have each the power

Of kindling loftier thoughts, and feelings more
Resolved and high. Even in your silence, warm,

Soft accents seem my sorrows to disarm ;

And when with tears your absence I deplore,

I THINK OF THEE.

Where'er I turn, your influence, as before,

Pursues me, in your voice, your eye, your form.

Whence are those mild and mournful sounds I hear,
Through every land, and on the pathless sea ?

Is it some spirit of air or fire, from thee,

Subject to laws I move by and revere ;

Which, lighted by thy glance, can ne'er decay ;

But what I know not, why attempt to say?

From the Italian.

I THINK OF THEE.

THINK of thee-I think of thee,
And all that thou hast borne for me;
In hours of gloom or heartless glee,
I think of thee-I think of thee!

I think of thee,-I think and sigh
O'er blighted years, and bliss gone by;
And mourn the stern, severe decree,
That spared me only thoughts of thee!

In youth's gay spring, 'mid pleasure's bowers,
Where all is sunshine, mirth, and flowers;

We met ;-I bent the adoring knee

And told a tender tale to thee!

'Twas summer's eve-the heavens above,

Earth, ocean, air were full of love:

Nature around kept jubilee

When first I breathed that tale to thee!

231