TO EDWARD WILLIAMS. I. THE serpent is shut out from paradise. The wounded deer must seek the herb no more The widowed dove must cease to haunt a bower I too must seldom seek again Of hatred I am proud, II. with scorn content; Indifference, that once hurt me, now is grown Itself indifferent. But, not to speak of love, pity alone Can break a spirit already more than bent. The miserable one Turns the mind's poison into food, Its medicine is tears, its evil good. III. Therefore, if now I see you seldomer, Dear friends, dear friend! know that I only fly Griefs that should sleep, and hopes that cannot die : The very comfort that they minister I scarce can bear, yet I, So deeply is the arrow gone, Should quickly perish if it were withdrawn. IV. When I return to my cold home, you ask Why I am not as I have ever been. You spoil me for the task Of acting a forced part in life's dull scene, Of wearing on my brow the idle mask Of author, great or mean, In the world's carnival. I sought Peace thus, and but in you I found it not. V. Full half an hour, to-day, I tried my lot With various flowers, and every one still said, And if this meant a vision long since fled If it meant fortune, fame, or peace of thought- To speak what you may know too well: Still there was truth in the sad oracle. VI. The crane o'er seas and forests seeks her home; When it no more would roam; The sleepless billows on the ocean's breast Break like a bursting heart, and die in foam, And thus at length find rest. Doubtless there is a place of peace Where my weak heart and all its throbs will cease. VII. I asked her, yesterday, if she believed 30 35 40 45 That I had resolution. One who had .50 Would ne'er have thus relieved His heart with words, but what his judgment bade Would do, and leave the scorner unrelieved. These verses are too sad To send to you, but that I know, Happy yourself, you feel another's woe. 1821. 55 THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT. SONG. “A WIDOW bird saté mourning for her love Upon a wintry bough; The frozen wind crept on above, The freezing stream below. "There was no leaf upon the forest bare, No flower upon the ground, And little motion in the air Except the mill-wheel's sound." 1821. THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT. I. "SLEEP, sleep on! forget thy pain; My spirit on thy brain, My pity on thy heart, poor friend; The powers of life, and like a sign, Seal thee from thine hour of woe, And brood on thee, but may not blend II. "Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not; But when I think that he Who made and makes my lot As full of flowers as thine of weeds, Feelings which died in youth's brief morn ; 25 And forget me, for I can never "The spell is done. How feel you now?" "Better Quite well," replied The sleeper. "What would do You good when suffering and awake? And as I must on earth abide Awhile, yet tempt me not to break My chain.” 35 40 1822. 45 LINES. I. WHEN the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not; II. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute, No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. III. When hearts have once mingled Love first leaves the well-built nest, The weak one is singled To endure what it once possessed. The frailty of all things here, Why choose you the frailest For your cradle, your home and your bier? IV. Its passions will rock thee As the storms rock the ravens on high: 5 IO 15 20 25 |