3.

4.

Or the mournful surges

That ring the dead seaman's knell.

When hearts have once mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled

To endure what it once possessed.
O, Love, who bewailest

The frailty of all things here,

Why chose you the frailest

For your cradle, your home, and your bier?

Its passions will rock thee,

As the storms rock the ravens on high:

Bright reason will mock thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home

Leave thee naked to laughter

When leaves fall and cold winds come.

LINES WRITTEN IN THE BAY OF
LERICI.

SHE left me at the silent time

When the moon had ceased to climb

The azure path of heaven's steep,

And, like an albatross asleep,

Balanced on her wings of light,
Hovered in the purple night,
Ere she sought her ocean nest
In the chambers of the west.
She left me; and I stayed alone,
Thinking over every tone,
Which, though silent to the ear,
The enchanted heart could hear,

Like notes which die when born, but still

Haunt the echoes of the hill,

And feeling ever-oh too much !

The soft vibration of her touch,

As if her gentle hand even now
Lightly trembled on my brow.
And thus, although she absent were,
Memory gave me all of her

That even Fancy dares to claim.
Her presence had made weak and tame
All passions, and I lived alone

In the time which is our own ;
The past and future were forgot,
As they had been, and would be, not.
But soon, the guardian angel gone,
The dæmon reassumed his throne

In my faint heart. I dare not speak
My thoughts; but thus disturbed and weak
I sat, and saw the vessels glide

Over the ocean bright and wide,
Like spirit-wingèd chariots sent
O'er some serenest element

For ministrations strange and far,
As if to some elysian star

They sailed for drink to medicine
Such sweet and bitter pain as mine.
And the wind that winged their flight
From the land came fresh and light;
And the scent of wingèd flowers,
And the coolness of the hours

Of dew, and sweet warmth left by day,
Were scattered o'er the twinkling bay;
And the fisher, with his lamp

And spear, about the low rocks damp
Crept, and struck the fish which came
To worship the delusive flame.

Too happy they, whose pleasure sought
Extinguishes all sense and thought
Of the regret that pleasure leaves,–
Destroying life alone, not peace!

EPITAPH.

THESE are two friends whose lives were

undivided;

So let their memory be, now they have glided Under their grave; let not their bones be parted, For their two hearts in life were single-hearted.

FRAGMENTS.

I.

TO MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT

GODWIN.

I. MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes, I was firm. Thus wert not thou.
My baffled looks did fear yet dread
To meet thy looks-I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine
With soothing pity upon mine.

2. To sit and curb the soul's mute rage Which preys upon itself alone;

To curse the life which is the cage

Of fettered grief that dares not groan,
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scorned load of agony :—

3. Whilst thou alone, then not regarded, The. . . . thou alone shouldst be.

To spend years thus, and be rewarded
As thou, sweet love, requitedst me
When none were near-Oh! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake!

4. Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell, like dew
On flowers half dead; thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw
Their soft persuasion on my brain,
Charming away its dream of pain.

5. We are not happy, sweet! our state

Is strange and full of doubt and fear;
More need of words that ills abate ;--
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee and me.

6. Gentle and good and mild thou art ;
Nor can I live if thou appear
Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart
Away from me, or stoop to wear
The mask of scorn, although it be
To hide the love thou feel'st for me.
June, 1814.