My SARA came, with gentlest Look divine; Whispering we went, and Love was all our themeLove pure and spotless, as at first, I deem, He sprang from Heaven! Such joys with Sleep did 'bide, That I the living Image of my Dream Fondly forgot. Too late I woke, and sigh'd "O! how shall I behold my Love at even-tide!" IMITATED FROM OSSIAN. THE stream with languid murmur creeps, In LUMIN's flowery vale: Beneath the dew the Lily weeps Slow-waving to the gale. "Cease, restless gale! it seems to say, "Nor wake me with thy sighing! "The honours of my vernal day "On rapid wing are flying. "To morrow shall the Traveller come With eager gaze and wetted cheek My wonted haunts along, Thus, faithful Maiden! thou shalt seek The Youth of simplest song. But I along the breeze shall roll The voice of feeble power; And dwell, the Moon-beam of thy soul, In Slumber's nightly hour. THE COMPLAINT OF NINATHOMA, How long will ye round me be swelling, Nor beneath the cold blast of the Tree. And they blessed the white-bosomed Maid! A GHOST! by my Cavern it darted! When they visit the dreams of my Rest! |