THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT. 285

SONG.

"A WIDOW bird sate 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."

THE MAGNETIC LADY TO HER PATIENT.

I.

"SLEEP, sleep on! forget thy pain;

My hand is on thy brow,

My spirit on thy brain,

My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow

The powers of life, and like a sign,

Seal thee from thine hour of woe,

And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.

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,
Might have been lost like thee,

And that a hand which was not mine

1821.

Might then have charmed his agony As I another's—my heart bleeds

For thine.

III.

"Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of

The dead and the unborn

Forget thy life and love;

Forget that thou must wake for ever;

Forget the world's dull scorn;

Forget lost health, and the divine

20

Feelings which died in youth's brief morn;

25

And forget me, for I can never

Be thine.

IV.

"Like a cloud big with a May shower,

My soul weeps healing rain,

"The spell is done. How feel you now?" "Better Quite well," replied

What cure your head and side?
"What would cure, that would kill me, Jane:
And as I must on earth abide
Awhile, yet tempt me not to break

My chain."

35

40

1822. 45

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 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:

15

20

25

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.

1822.

TO JANE-THE INVITATION.

BEST and brightest, come away!
Fairer far than this fair Day,
Which, like thee to those in sorrow,
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rough Year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.

The brightest hour of unborn Spring,
Through the winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon Morn
To hoar February born;

Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the Earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea,

And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains,
And breathed upon the frozen mountains,
And like a prophetess of May
Strewed flowers upon the barren way,
Making the wintry world appear

Like one on whom thou smilest, dear.

Away, away, from men and towns,
To the wild wood and the downs-

30

5

ΙΟ

15

20