And none can prize her charms like him,
Oh, none like him obtain her,
Who thus can, like Leander, swim
Thro' sparkling floods to gain her!
HERE SLEEPS THE BARD.
(HIGHLAND AIR.)
Here sleeps the Bard who knew so well
All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell;
Whether its music rolled like torrents near.
Or died, like distant streamlets, on the ear.
Sleep, sleep, mute bard; alike unheeded now
The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow;--
That storm, whose rush is like thy martial lay;
That breeze which, like thy love-song, dies away!
DO NOT SAY THAT LIFE IS WANING.
Do not say that life is waning,
Or that hope's sweet day is set;
While I've thee and love remaining,
Life is in the horizon yet.
Do not think those charms are flying,
Tho' thy roses fade and fall;
Beauty hath a grace undying,
Which in thee survives them all.
Not for charms, the newest, brightest,
That on other cheeks may shine,
Would I change the least, the slightest.
That is lingering now o'er thine.
THE GAZELLE.
Dost thou not hear the silver bell,
Thro' yonder lime-trees ringing?
'Tis my lady's light gazelle;
To me her love thoughts bringing,--
All the while that silver bell
Around his dark neck ringing.
See, in his mouth he bears a wreath,
My love hath kist in tying;
Oh, what tender thoughts beneath
Those silent flowers are lying,--
Hid within the mystic wreath,
My love hath kist in trying!
Welcome, dear gazelle, to thee,
And joy to her, the fairest.
Pages:
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435