LI.

THE PARTING.

OH! is it thus we part,
And thus we say farewell,
As if in neither heart
Affection e'er did dwell?
And is it thus we sunder
Without a sigh or tear,
As if it were a wonder
We e'er held other dear?

We part upon the spot,
With cold and clouded brow,
Where first it was our lot
To breathe love's fondest vow!
The vow both then did tender
Within this hallowed shade*_
These vows we now surrender,
Heart-bankrupts both are made!

Thy hand is cold as mine,
As lustreless thine eye;
Thy bosom gives no sign

That it could ever sigh !
Well, well! adieu's soon spoken,

'Tis but a parting phrase,

Yet said, I fear, heart-broken

We'll live our after days!

Thine eye no tear will shed;
Mine is as proudly dry;

* Within this MOONLIT GLADE.-MS. copy.

But many an aching head
Is ours before we die !

From pride we both can borrow—
To part we both may dare-
But the heart-break of to-morrow,
Nor you nor I can bear!

LII.

LOVE'S DIET.

TELL me, fair maid, tell me truly,
How should infant Love be fed ;
If with dewdrops, shed so newly
On the bright green clover blade ;
Or, with roses plucked in July,
And with honey liquored?
O, no! O, no!

Let roses blow,

And dew-stars to green blade cling:
Other fare,

More light and rare,

Befits that gentlest Nursling.

Feed him with the sigh that rushes

"Twixt sweet lips, whose muteness speaks

With the eloquence that flushes

All a heart's wealth o'er soft cheeks;

Feed him with a world of blushes,

And the glance that shuns, yet seeks :
For 'tis with food,

So light and good,

That the Spirit child is fed;

And with the tear

Of joyous fear

That the small Elf's liquored.

LIII.

THE MIDNIGHT WIND.

MOURNFULLY! O, mournfully
This midnight wind doth sigh,
Like some sweet plaintive melody
Of ages long gone by :

It speaks a tale of other years—
Of hopes that bloomed to die-
Of sunny smiles that set in tears,
And loves that mouldering lie!

Mournfully! O, mournfully

This midnight wind doth moan;
It stirs some chord of memory
In each dull heavy tone :
The voices of the much-loved dead
Seem floating thereupon-

All, all my fond heart cherished
Ere death had made it lone.

Mournfully! O, mournfully

This midnight wind doth swell,
With its quaint pensive minstrelsy
Hope's passionate farewell
To the dreamy joys of early years,

Ere yet grief's canker fell

On the heart's bloom-ay! well may tears Start at that parting knell !

POSTHUMOUS PIECES.

R