Though human, thou didst not deceive me,
Though woman, thou didst not forsake,
Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me,

Though slandered, thou never couldst shake, —
Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me,
Though parted, it was not to fly,
Though watchful, 't was not to defame me,
Nor mute, that the world might belie.

Yet I blame not the world, nor despise it,
Nor the war of the many with one
If my soul was not fitted to prize it,
"T was folly not sooner to shun:
And if dearly that error hath cost me,
And more than I once could foresee,
I have found that whatever it lost me,
It could not deprive me of thee.

From the wreck of the past, which hath perished,
Thus much I at least may recall,

It hath taught me that which I most cherished
Deserved to be dearest of all:

In the desert a fountain is springing,

In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee.
29

STANZAS.

TO HER WHO CAN BEST UNDERSTAND THEM.

Be it so we part for ever!

Let the past as nothing be;

Had I only loved thee, never

Hadst thou been thus dear to me.

Had I loved, and thus been slighted,
That I better could have borne ;
Love is quelled, when unrequited,
By the rising pulse of scorn.

Pride may cool what passion heated,

Time will tame the wayward will;

But the heart in friendship cheated,

Throbs with woe's most maddening thrill.

Had I loved, I now might hate thee,

In that hatred solace seek,

Might exult to execrate thee,

And, in words, my vengeance wreak.

But there is a silent sorrow,

Which can find no vent in speech, Which disdains relief to borrow

From the heights that song can reach.

Like the sleepless dreams that mock, — Like the frigid ice-drops falling

From the surf-surrounded rock.

Such the cold and sickening feeling

Thou hast caused this heart to know, Stabbed the deeper by concealing From the world its bitter woe.

Once it fondly, proudly deemed thee
All that fancy's self could paint,
Once it honored and esteemed thee,
As its idol and its saint!

More than woman thou wast to me;

Not as man I looked on thee;

Why like woman then undo me!

Why "heap man's worst curse on me."

Wast thou but a fiend, assuming
Friendship's smile and woman's art,
And, in borrowed beauty blooming,
Trifling with a trusted heart!

By that eye which once could glisten
With opposing glance to me;
By that ear which once could listen
To each tale I told to thee;-

By that lip, its smile bestowing,

Which could soften sorrow's gush; By that cheek, once brightly glowing

With pure friendship's well-feigned blush;

By all those false charms united,
Thou hast wrought thy wanton will,
And, without compunction, blighted
What "thou wouldst not kindly kill."

Yet I curse thee not in sadness,

Still, I feel how dear thou wert; Oh! I could not- e'en in madness Doom thee to thy just desert!

Live! and when my life is over,

Should thine own be lengthened long, Thou may'st then, too late, discover, By thy feelings, all my wrong.

When thy beauties all are faded, When thy flatterers fawn no more, Ere the solemn shroud hath shaded Some regardless reptile's store,

Ere that hour, false syren, hear me!
Thou may'st feel what I do now,
While my spirit, hovering near thee,
Whispers friendship's broken vow.

But 'tis useless to upbraid thee
With thy past or present state;
What thou wast, my fancy made thee,
What thou art, I know too late.

ΤΟ

"Tis done

STANZAS.

ON LEAVING ENGLAND.

and shivering in the gale

The bark unfurls her snowy sail;

And whistling o'er the bending mast, Loud sings on high the freshening blast; And I must from this land be gone, Because I cannot love but one.

But could I be what I have been,

And could I see what I have seen
Could I repose upon the breast
Which once my warmest wishes blest -
I should not seek another zone
Because I cannot love but one.

"Tis long since I beheld that eye
Which gave me bliss or misery:
And I have striven, but in vain,
Never to think of it again;
For though I fly from Albion,
I still can only love but one.

As some lone bird, without a mate,
My weary heart is desolate;

I look around, and cannot trace
One friendly smile or welcome face,
And even in crowds am still alone,
Because I cannot love but one.