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THE AZIOLA.

I.

5

“Do you not hear the Aziola cry?
Methinks she must be nigh,”

Said Mary, as we sate
In dusk, ere stars were lit, or candles brought;

And I, who thought
This Aziola was some tedious woman,

Asked, “Who is Aziola ?" How elate
I felt to know that it was nothing human,
No mockery of myself to fear or hate :

And Mary saw my soul,
And laughed, and said, “Disquiet yourself not;

’T is nothing but a little downy owl.”

IO

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II.

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Sad Aziola ! many an eventide

Thy music I had heard
By wood and stream, meadow and mountain-side,

And fields and marshes wide,
Such as nor voice, nor lute, nor wind, nor bird,

The soul ever stirred;
Unlike and far sweeter than them all.
Sad Aziola! from that moment I
Loved thee and thy sad cry.

1821.

20

A LAMENT.

I.

Oh, world ! oh, life ! oh, time!
On whose last steps I climb

Trembling at that where I had stood before ;

When will return the glory of your prime?

No more — 0, never more !

5

II.

Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight;

Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar,
Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight
No more - 0, never more !

1821.

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REMEMBRANCE.

I.

SWIFTER far than summer's flight -
Swifter far than youth's delight -
Swifter far than happy night,

Art thou come and gone
As the wood when leaves are shed,
As the night when sleep has fled,
As the heart when joy is dead,

I am left lone, alone.

5

II.

10

The swallow summer comes again-
The owlet night resumes his reign-
But the wild-swan youth is fain

To fly with thee, false as thou.
My heart each day desires the morrow;
Sleep itself is turned to sorrow;
Vainly would my winter borrow

Sunny leaves from any bough.

15

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WHERE art thou, beloved To-morrow?

When young and old and strong and weak,
Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,

Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,
In thy place — ah ! well-a-day !
We find the thing we fled - To-day.

1821.

5

LINES.

IF I walk in Autumn's even

While the dead leaves pass, If I look on Spring's soft heaven,

Something is not there which was. Winter's wondrous frost and snow, Summer's clouds, where are they now?

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II.

It were enough to feel, to see
Thy soft eyes gazing tenderly,
And dream the rest -- and burn and be
The secret food of fires unseen,
Couldst thou but be as thou hast been

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III.

After the slumber of the year
The woodland violets re-appear,
All things revive in field or grove
And sky and sea, but two, which move
And form all others, life and love.

15

1821.

A BRIDAL SONG.

I.

5

The golden gates of Sleep unbar

Where Strength and Beauty met together
Kindle their image like a star

In a sea of glassy weather.
Night, with all thy stars look down,

Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,
Never smiled the inconstant moon

On a pair so true.
Let eyes not see their own delight;
Haste, swift Hour, and thy flight

Oft renew.

IO

II.

Fairies, sprites, and angels keep her!

Holy stars, permit no wrong!

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