TO THYRZA.

WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot,

And

say, what Truth might well have said,

By all, save one, perchance forgot,

Ah, wherefore art thou lowly laid?

By many a shore and many a sea
Divided, yet beloved in vain ;
The past, the future fled to thee

To bid us meet-no-ne'er again!
Could this have been-a word, a look
That softly said, "We part in peace,"
Had taught my bosom how to brook,
With fainter sighs, thy soul's release.
And didst thou not, since Death for thee
Prepared a light and pangless dart,

Once long for him thou ne'er shalt see,

Who held, and holds thee in his heart?
Oh! who like him had watch'd thee here?
Or sadly mark'd thy glazing eye,
In that dread hour ere death appear,
When silent Sorrow fears to sigh,

Till all was past? But when no more
"Twas thine to reck of human woe,
Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er,
Had flow'd as fast-as now they flow.
Shall they not flow, when many a day
In these, to me, deserted towers,
Ere call'd but for a time away,

Affection's mingling tears were ours?
Ours too the glance none saw beside;
The smile none else might understand;
The whisper'd thought of hearts allied,
The pressure of the thrilling hand;
The kiss so guiltless and refined

That Love each warmer wish forbore;
Those eyes proclaim'd so pure a mind,
Even passion blush'd to plead for more.

The tone, that taught me to rejoice,
When prone, unlike thee, to repine;

The song, celestial from thy voice,

But sweet to me from none but thine;

The pledge we wore I wear it still,

But where is thine ?-ah, where art thou?

Oft have I borne the weight of ill,

But never bent beneath till now!

Well hast thou left in life's best bloom

The cup of woe for me to drain. If rest alone be in the tomb,

I would not wish thee here again; But if in worlds more blest than this Thy virtues seek a fitter sphere, Impart some portion of thy bliss,

To wean me from mine anguish here. Teach me—too early taught by thee! To bear, forgiving and forgiven: On earth thy love was such to me;

It fain would form my hope in heaven!

STANZAS.

1.

AWAY, away, ye notes of woe!

Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
Or I must flee from hence, for, oh!

I dare not trust those sounds again.
To me they speak of brighter days—
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
I must not think, I may not gaze
On what I am-on what I was.

2.

The voice that made those sounds more sweet

Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled;

And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!

Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,

Beloved dust! since dust thou art;

And all that once was harmony

Is worse than discord to

my

heart!

3.

"Tis silent all!-but on my ear

The well-remember'd echoes thrill;

I hear a voice I would not hear,

A voice that now might well be still, Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake: Even slumber owns its gentle tone,

Till consciousness will vainly wake

To listen, though the dream be flown.

4.

Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,

Thou art but now a lovely dream;

A star that trembled o'er the deep,

Then turn'd from earth its tender beam.

But he, who through life's dreary way

Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,

Will long lament the vanish'd ray

That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.