2. Oh, pardon that in crowds awhile, I waste one thought I owe to thee, Nor deem that memory less dear, I would not fools should overhear One sigh that should be wholly thine. 3. If not the Goblet pass unquaff'd, And could Oblivion set my soul From all her troubled visions free, I'd dash to earth the sweetest bowl That drown'd a single thought of thee. 4. For wert thou vanish'd from my mind, To honour thine abandon'd Urn? No, No-it is my sorrow's pride 5. For well I know, that such had been And, Oh! I feel in that was given, Thou wert too like a dream of Heaven, For earthly Love to merit thee. March 14th, 1812. XVIII. On a Cornelian Heart which was broken. 1. ILL-FATED heart! and can it be That thou shouldst thus be rent in twain! Have years of care for thine and thee Alike been all employed in vain ? 2. Yet precious seems each shatter'd part, A fitter emblem of his own. XIX. [This poem and the following were written some years ago.] FEW To a Youthful Friend. 1. years have pass'd since thou and I Were firmest friends, at least in name, And childhood's gay sincerity Preserv'd our feelings long the same. But now, 2. like me, too well thou know'st What trifles oft the heart recall; And those who once have lov'd the most Too soon forget they lov'd at all. 3. And such the change the heart displays, 4. If so, it never shall be mine To mourn the loss of such a heart; The fault was Nature's fault not thine, Which made thee fickle as thou art. 5. As rolls the ocean's changing tide, So human feelings ebb and flow; And who would in a breast confide Where stormy passions ever glow? 6. It boots not, that together bred, Our childish days were days of joy; My spring of life has quickly fled; Thou, too, hast ceas'd to be a boy. 7. And when we bid adieu to youth, Slaves to the specious world's controul, We sigh a long farewell to truth; That world corrupts the noblest soul. |