Mine 8. eyes like wintry streams o'erflow: What wretch with me would barter woe? My bird! relent: one note could give A charm, to bid thy lover live. 9. My curdling blood, my madd'ning brain, In silent anguish I sustain; And still thy heart, without partaking One pang, exults—while mine is breaking. 10. Pour me the poison; fear not thou! Thou canst not murder more than now: I've lived to curse my natal day, And Love, that thus can lingering slay. 11. My wounded soul, my bleeding breast, Alas! too late, I dearly know, That joy is harbinger of woe. A SONG. 1. THOU art not false, but thou art fickle, Are doubly bitter from that thought: "Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest, Too well thou lov'st-too soon thou leavest. 2. The wholly false the heart despises, Whose love is as sincere as sweet,— 3. To dream of joy and wake to sorrow That cheated us in slumber only, To leave the waking soul more lonely, 4. What must they feel whom no false vision, But truest, tenderest passion warm'd? Sincere, but swift in sad transition, As if a dream alone had charm'd? Ah! sure such grief is fancy's scheming, And all thy change can be but dreaming! ON BEING ASKED WHAT WAS THE "ORIGIN OF LOVE?" THE "Origin of Love!"-Ah why That cruel question ask of me, He starts to life on seeing thee? And should'st thou seek his end to know: My heart forebodes, my fears foresee, But live-until I cease to be. REMEMBER HIM, &c. 1. REMEMBER him, whom passion's power Severely, deeply, vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour When neither fell, though both were loved. 2. That yielding breast, that melting eye, Too much invited to be blest: That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh, 3. Oh! let me feel that all I lost, But saved thee all that conscience fears; And blush for every pang it cost Το spare the vain remorse of years. |