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Still, whilst I darkly sojourn here,
Thy name, through many a future year,
Of bliss-gone by for ever!
Though thou hast wrapped me in a cloud,
Nought now may e'er dispel,
In silentness my wrongs I'll shroud,
And love, reproach, pain, passion, crowd
Into one word-FAREWELL!
'Tis done the task of soul is taught;
And now, FAREWELL-FAREWELL !
SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN ON THE ENVE
LOPE TO A LOCK OF HAIR.
PLEDGE of a love as pure and deep
As ever thrilled in mortal breast!
No! Bright as was thy brief career,
In this wild waste of storm and gloom,—
And much as I have wished thee here,
My soul's dark sorrows to illume,—
In loneliness I'd rather languish,
Than have thee here to share my anguish !
Besides, would even Heaven allow
Since human ills-a numerous train-
And stir thy young sweet thoughts to strife!
Yet looking on this sun-bright tress
BLOSSOM OF LOVE! Yes, on my mind
BLOSSOM OF LOVE! Farewell!-Farewell!
I go to join the noisy throng; But, in my soul's deep-inmost cell, Thoughts that to thine and thee belong,
Will ever bloom as fresh and fair
As when they first were planted there!
And, oh, if tears of woe may nourish
The flowers of Memory in the breast;
Then those in mine will surely flourish,
And each succeeding hour invest
Their stems with charms unknown before,Till we three meet to part no more!
Now Winter from her throne is hurling
The deep-voiced matron of the year; And fitful gusts are wildly whirling
Her yellow hues on high; though here, many a fold of beauty streaming,
It lingers still whilst from her eye
The watery light of love is beaming
As bright-but, oh, as transiently; Filling the bosom with a sadness,
Though born of grief-allied to gladness.