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I. Ат morn, beside
yon summer sea, Young Hope and Love reclined; But scarce had noon-tide come, when he Into his bark leap'd smilingly,
And left poor Hope behind.
II. "I go, ” said Love,
to sail awhile 66 Across this sunny main; And then so sweet his parting smile, That Hope, who never dream'd of guile,
Believed he'd come again.
Along the waters lay,
And tow'rd the maiden moves ! 'Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright, His golden bark reflects the light,
But ah! it is not Love's.
Another sail-'twas Friendship show'd
Her night-lamp o'er the sea ;
And where, alas ! was he?
Now fast around the sea and shore
Night threw her darkling chain, The sunny
sails were seen no more, Hope's morning dreams of bliss were o'er
Love never came again!
THERE COMES A TIME.
There comes a time, a dreary time,
To him whose heart hath flown O'er all the fields of youth's sweet prime,
And made each flower its own. 'Tis when his soul must first renounce
Those dreams so bright, so fond ; Oh! then's the time to die at once, For life has nought beyond.
There comes a time, etc.
That instant all is night;
When Love withdraws his light
Through twilight's dim delay, The cold remains of lustre gone, Of fire long pass'd away.
Oh! there comes a time, etc.
My harp has one unchanging theme,
One strain that still comes o'er
Of joy that's now no more.
To wake the breathing string ; That voice of other times is there,
And saddens all I sing.
Breathe on, breathe on, thou languid strain,
Henceforth be all my own,
Few hearts can bear thy tone.
The breath that Pleasure's wings
Were still upon thy strings.
OH! NO_NOT E'EN WHEN FIRST WE LOVED.
Oh! no-not e’en when first we loved,
Wert thou as dear as now thou art ; Thy beauty then my senses moved, But now thy virtues bind my
heart. What was but Passion's sigh before,
Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow; And, though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now!
Although my heart in earlier youth
Might kindle with more wild desire, Believe me, it has gain'd in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire. The flame now warms my inmost core,
That then but sparkled o'er my brow; And, though I seem'd to love thee more,
Yet, oh! I love thee better now.