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But if your heart be not so free,
Oh! if another share that heart,
But mingle mercy with your art.
Than find yon to be all divine,
Yet kncw that heart would not be mine!
OX HIER BIRTHDAY.
WHEN Time was entwining the garland of years,
Which to crown my beloved was given, Though some of the leaves might be sullied with tears,
Yet the flowers were all gathered in heaven !
May its verdure for ever be new!
And pity shall nurse it with dew !
CHLORIS, I swear, by all I ever swore,
ON HEP BEAUTIFUL TRANSLATION OF VOITURE'S KISS.
Mon âme sur ma lèvre était lors toute entière,
How heavenly was the poet's doom,
To breathe his spirit through a kiss ;
The trembling messenger of bliss !
And, ah ! his soul returned to feel
That it again could ravishesl be;
His life and soul have fled to thee!
ON THE DEATH OF A LADY.
SWEET spirit ! if thy airy sleep
Nor sees my tears, nor hears my sighs,
Till the last heart's-drop fills mine eyes.
And mingles in our misery,
Thou shalt not hear one sigh from me !
The beam of morn was on the stream,
But sullen clouds the day deform :
And death, alas! that sullen storm.
Thou wert not forined for living here,
For thou wert kindred with the sky;
We thought thou wert not formed to die !
Does the harp of Rosa slumber?
Does the harp of Rosa cease ?
In vain we fondly strive to trace
A dream, I find, illusory as sweet :,
Is dearer far than passion's bland deceit !
Your heart was only mine, I once believed. Ah! shall I say that all your vows were air ?
And must I say my hopes were all deceived ? Vow, then, no longer that our souls are twined,
That all our joys are felt with mutual zeal: Julia ! 'tis pity, pity makes you kind ;
You know I love, and you would seem to feel. But shall I still go revel in those arms
On bliss in which affection takes no part? No, no! farewell ! you give me but your charms,
When I had fondly thought you gave your heart.
From yonder oak the ivy sever;
Yet now the oak is fresh as ever.
Not so the widowed ivy shines :
Torn from its dear and only stay, In drooping widowhood it pines,
And scatters all its blooms away! Thus, Julia, did our hearts entwine,
Till fate disturbed their tender ties : Thus gay indifference blooms in thine,
While mine, deserted, droops and dies !
Sine me sit nulla Verius.--Sulpicia.
They live with one sensation :
And thrill with like vibration.
How often have I heard thee say,
When mine no more is moving !
Such sympathy in loving !
TO MRS. M
SWEET lady! look not thus again :
Those little pouting smiles recall A maid remembered now with pain,
Who was my love, my life, my all ! Oh! while this heart delirious took
Sweet poison from her thrilling eye, Thus would she pout, and lisp, and look,
And I would hear, and gaze, and sigh ! Yes, I did love her-madly love
She was the sweetest, best deceiver ! And oft she swore she'd never rove !
And I was destined to believe her! Then, lady, do not wear the smile
Of her whose smile could thus betray: Alas ! I think the lovely wile
Again might steal my heart away.