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But soon reflection's power impress'd
A stiller sadness on my breast;
And sickly hope, with waning eye,
Was well content to droop and die :
I yielded to the stern decree,
Yet heav'd a languid sigh for thee!

And tho' in distant climes to roam,
A wandrer from my native home,
I lain would soothe the sense of care,
And lull to sleep the joys that were !
Thy image may not banislı'd be
Still, Dary, still I sigh for thee.


Yes, it is true I utter'd not my tale ;

But didst thou never hear the bitter sighs That swelled my breast, ne'er see what deadly

pale, Stole o'er my cheek, how often to mine eyes, Spite of myself, the grief-wrung tears would


Xhen, by thy side, some youth than me more

bold, More blest in all those charms that wealth sup

plies, With ready tongue his artful story told? Hast thou not seen my passion, ill-contrould,

For thee in thousand nameless actions shown? Seen that in others nought could I behold? That still I spoke, moved, breathed for thee

alone? And might not these have taught thee, far above The feeble power of words, my watchless love?



They that never had the use
Of the grape's surprising juice,
To the first delicious cup
All their reason render up:
Neither do, nor care to know
Whether it be best or no.

So, they that are to love inclin'd,

Sway'd by chance, not choice or art, To the first that's fair or kind,

Make a present of their heart :

"T'is not she that first we love, But whom dying we approve.

To man, that was in th' evening made,

Stars gave the first delight; Admiring, in the gloomy shade,

Those little drops of light: Then at Aurora, whose fair hand

Remov'd then from the skies, He gazing toward the east did stand,

She entertain'd his eyes.

But when the bright sun did appear,

All those he 'gan despise ;
His wonder was determin’d there,

And could not higher rise :
He neither might, nor wish'd to know

A more refulgent light : For that (as mine your beauties now)

Employ'd his utmost sight.


I stood and saw my mistress dance,

Silent, and with so fixed an eye,
Some might suppose me in a trance,

But being asked why,
By one that knew I was in love,

I could not but impart
My wonder, to behold her move

So niinbly with a marble heart


Lately at afternoon, the sun hot-shining,

Flush'd with the grape, and in poetics deep; On a soft sopha carelessly reclining,

Tuning new sonnets, lo! I dropp'd asleep. Thro’ the vine-bower'd windows then inclining,

My mistress from the garden chanc'd to peep; And left her lily's with the heat repining,

On tip-toe to my cool recess to creep.

She read the verse for her sweet self intended

We must indeed, she said, those lips saluté,

Which blushingly do use such modest suit, That maiden meekness cannot be offended ;

She kiss'd, I wak’d-how eloquently mute Her eyes, her blushes, the sweet fault defended,


Say, gentle spirit, has thou seen,

When the sun darts o'er ocean low,
And sudden bursts on heav'n's wide scene,

The warm, the radiating glow?

Say, hast thou seen the opal white,

First when no ray its breast illumes, Then flashing on some rapid light,

What blooming brilliance it assumes ?

And hast thou seen an ebon cloud,

From which the rainy torrents flow, When Phæbus casts away his shroud,

Gleam with the orience of the bow?

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