Love has turned his face away,
Weep, sad eyes!
Love is now of yesterday
Time that flies,
Bringing glad and grievous things,
Bears no more Love's shining wings.

Love was not all glad, you say;
Tears and sighs
In the midst of kisses lay
Were it wise,
If we could, to bid him come,
Making with us once more home?

Little doubts that sting and prey,
Hurt replies,
Words for which a life should pay, —
None denies
These of Love were very part, —
Thorns that hurt the rose's heart.

Ah , happy youths! ah, happy maid!
Take present pleasure while ye may;
Laugh, dance, and sing in sunny glade;
Your limbs are light, your hearts are gay;
Ye little think there comes a day
('Twill come to you, it came to me,)
When love and life shall pass away, —
I too once dwelt in Arcady!

Or listless lie by yonder stream,
And muse and watch the ripples play;
Or note their noiseless flow and deem
That life thus gently glides away,
That love is but a sunny ray
To make our years go joyously;

Op HoeBUS ! down the western sky
Far hence diffuse thy burning ray,
Thy light to distant worlds supply,
And wake them to the cares of day.
Come, gentle eve, the friend of care,
Come, Cynthia, lovely queen of night!
Refresh me with a cooling air,
And cheer me with a lambent light.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

My Love she is a lowly but sweet flower,
And I would wear her in my breast, for she
Is full of fragrance, and such modesty
That I ev'n sanctify that precious hour,
When first my eyes her worshippers became.
He, who hath mark'd the opening rose in spring,
Hath seen but portion small of her I sing.
For Fortune if I struggle, or for Fame,
'Tis that, unworthy, I may worthy be
Of her, the maiden with the dark black hair,
And darker eyes. My only wish to share
The sunless sums low sunk beneath the sea,

The tears I shed must ever fall,
I mourn not for an absent swain;
For thoughts may past delights recall,
And parted lovers meet again.
I weep not for the silent dead,
Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er;
And those they loved their steps shall tread,
And death shall join to part no more.

Though boundless oceans roll'd between,
If certain that his heart is near,
A conscious transport glads each scene,
Soft is the sigh, and sweet the tear.
E'en when by death's cold hand remov'd,
We mourn the tenant of the tomb,

The bugling of the summer wind
Is sweet upon the hill:
I love to hear its eddies
The heather-crannies fill.

It plays upon the bracken
A blithe fanfarronade:
And thro' the moss-cups whistleth
" The Fairy Raid. "

It leaps from birch to rowan,
And laugheth long and loud,
Then with a spring is vanished,
And rideth on a cloud!

Low laughing, blithely scorning —
Beware, beware, of flaming wings,
Love hunts thee down the morning!

His white feet dip i' the hillside springs,
He mocks thy flying terror!
The woodland with his laughter rings!

He'll make thee his slave to follow,
Nor shall he forgive thee, maid, thine error,
Who spied thee hid in the hollow.

Too late, too late the warning!
Behold the flash of flaming wings —
Love hath thee now i' the morning!

From oversea—
Violets for memories,
I send to thee;

Let them bear thoughts of me,
With pleasant memories
To touch the heart of thee,
Far oversea.

A little way it is for love to flee,
Love wing'd with memories,
Hither to thither overseas

'T IS a child of phansie's getting,
Brought up between hope and fear,
Fed with smiles, grown by uniting
Strong, and so kept by desire;

'Tis a perpetual vestal fire
Never dying,
Whose smoak like incense doth aspire
Upwards flying.

'Tis a soft magnetique stone
Attracting hearts by sympathie,
Binding up close two souls in one,
Both discoursing secretlie:

'Tis the true Gordian knot that tyes
Yet ne'er unbinds,
Fixing thus two lovers eyes
As wel as mindes.

'Tis the sphere's heavenly harmonie

" Trust love even if it brings sorrow.
Do not close up your heart. "
" Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them. "

" The heart is only for giving away with a tear and a song, my love. "
" Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them. "

" Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop, while it laughs it dies.
But sorrow is strong and abiding. Let sorrowful love wake in your eyes. "
" Ah no, my friend, your words are dark, I cannot understand them. "