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AN IMITATION FROM THE FRENCH.
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean,
With a sweet emotion;
All things by a law divine
Why not I with thine ?
See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
If it disdained its brother:
And the moonbeams kiss the sea,
If thou kiss not me ?
Death is here and death is there,
Death has set his mark and seal
First our pleasures die-and then
All things that we love and cherish,
When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead
When the cloud is scattered
When the lute is broken,
When the lips have spoken,
As music and splendour
The heart's echoes render
No song but sad dirges,
Or the mournful surges
When hearts have once mingled
The weak one is singled
0, Love! who bewailest The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
Its passions will rock thee
Bright reason will mock thee,
From thy nest every rafter
Leave the naked to laughter,
Wilt thou forget the happy hours
Forget the dead, the past ? O yet
TO WILLIAM SHELLEY,'
(With what truth I may say
Roma! Roma! Roma!
My lost William, thou in whom
Some bright spirit lived, and dįd
Which its lustre faintly hid,
But beneath this pyramid
if a thing divine Like thee can die, thy funeral shrine Is thy mother's grief and mine.
Where art thou, my gentle child ?
Let me think thy spirit feeds,
The love of living leaves and weeds, Among these tombs and ruins wild ;
Let me think that through low seeds