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Farewell to thee, France !—but when Liberty rallies
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice !
WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF “THE PLEASURES
ABSENT or present, still to thee,
My friend, what magic spells belong !
In turn thy converse, and thy song.
By Friendship ever deem'd too nigh,
Shall weep that aught of thee can die,
Thy homage offer'd at her shrine,
April 19, 1812.
ROUSSEAU—Voltaire- our Gibbon-and de Staël
(10) Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore, Thy shore of names like these; wert thou no more,
Their memory thy remembrance would recall :
But they have made them lovelier, for the lore
Of human hearts the ruin of a wall
How much more, Lake of Beauty! do we feel,
In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea,
Which of the heirs of immortality
1. Though the day of my destiny's over,
And the star of my fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover
The faults which so many could find; Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted,
It shrunk not to share it with me,
It never hath found but in thee.
Then when nature around me is smiling,
The last smile which answers to mine,
Because it reminds me of thine;
As the breasts I believed in with me,
It is that they bear me from thee.
Though the rock of my last hope is shiver’d,
And its fragments are sunk in the wave, Though I feel that my soul is deliver'd
To pain—it shall not be its slave. There is many a pang to pursue me :
They may crush, but they shall not contemnThey may torture, but shall not subdue me
'Tis of thee that I think-not of them.
Though human, thou didst not deceive me,
Though woman, thou didst not forsake, Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me,
Though slander'd, thou never could'st shake,Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me,
Though parted, it was not to fly, Though watchful, 'twas 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