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Not seldom is the soul depressed
When Feeling's fount is dry ;Sorrows that do not fade with years, But-dwelling all too deep for tears
Rankle eternally ! Such now as in my bosom swell, Read thou in this wild word,-FAREWELL!
TO A POETICAL FRIEND.
Be not over exquisite
All hail, dear friend !
—The winds are singing
Her golden flight, o'er the heaving sea,
Of heart, I gaze on her farewell beam;-
I'll startle thee not with a selfish theme !
All hail, dear friend !-Though clouds may lour,
And wintry storms descend awhile,
And Summer come on with her radiant smile. Then a truce to gloom ;-though a shade of sorrow
May darken our beams of bliss to-day, Heed it not !Joy's sun will rise to-morrow,
And chase each deepening tint away!
Shall we, whose hearts of warmth and feeling
Vibrate to Pleasure's tenderest touch, Supinely grieve, that Fate's hand is stealing
Some flowers of life—we have loved too much? Shalt thou who cleav'st, with eagle pinion,
The loftiest skies that GENIUS knows,
Of each ruffian blast that beneath thee blows ?
Forbid it, ye who prompt the numbers
That soothe the Bard in his wildest mood !-
In dreams of glory and light intrude!
Should bear, unmurmuring, Sorrow's sting;
By every buffet from Fortune's wing !
FORGET THEE? NO, NEVER!
Wrong thee, Bianca ? No, not for the earth!
FORGET thee? No, never !-Why cherish a thought
may sink to decay when the fond ones are parted ;