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AND THOU ART DEAD, AS YOUNG AND FAIR.
As aught of mortal birth ;
Too soon return'd to Earth!
In carelessness or mirth,
Nor gaze upon the spot ;
So I behold them not:
Like common earth can rot ;
As. fervently as thou,
And canst not alter now.
Nor falsehood disavow :
The worst can be but mine :
Shall never more be thine.
Nor need I to repine,
I might have watch'd through long decay. VOL. IV.
The flower in ripen'd bloom unmatch'd
Must fall the earliest prey ;
The leaves must drop away :
Than see it pluck'd to-day ;
I know not if I could have borne
To see thy beauties fade;
Had worn a deeper shade :
Extinguish'd, not decay'd ;
As once I wept, if I could weep,
My tears might well be shed,
One vigil o'er thy bed ;
Uphold thy drooping head;
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
Than thus remember thee !
Returns again to me,
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime ? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime ! Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine ; Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd.with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye ; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine ? 'Tis the clime of the East ; 'tis the land of the Sun, Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
[From The Hebrew Melodies.]
SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies ;
Meet in her aspect and her eyes :
One shade the morę, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face ; Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A heart whose love is innocent!
OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S BLOOM.
Oh! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom,
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year ; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom :
And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And lingering pause and lightly tread ;
Away! we know that tears are vain,
That death nor heeds nor hears distress :
Or make one mourner weep the less ?
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard ; It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like thee ;
Is thy sweet voice to me :
And the midnight moon is weaving
Her bright chain o'er the deep ;
As an infant's asleep: