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I wove a wreath, 'twas fresh and fair,
Rich roses in their crimson pride, And the blue harebell flowers were there ;
I wove and flung the wreath aside : Too much did those bright blossoms speak Of thy dear eyes and youthful cheek.
I took my lute; methought its strain
Might wile the heavy hours along;
With the sweet breath of ancient song:
And down I laid the restless lute,
And turned me to the poet's page; And vainly deemed that converse mute, Unmingled might my heart
engage: But in the poet's work I find The fellow essence of thy mind.
I wandered midst the silent wood,
And sought the greenest, coolest glade, Where not a sunbeam might intrude;
And in a chestnut's quiet shade
And strove to lead my heart to drink
At the deep founts of wandering thought, To ponder on the viewless link
Between our souls and bodies wrought; To quench my passionate dreams of thee Awhile in that philosophy.
Yet, all the while, thine image bright,
Still flitted by my mind to win,
Like sunshine that would enter in ;
Beloved! I will strive no more!
Thine image, in vice-regal power,
Throned in my heart, until the hour
The next poem is also written in a hopeful mood :
Fear not, beloved, though clouds may lower,
Whilst rainbow visions melt away,
That may the deepest midnight sway.
Our love can neither wane nor set;
We shall be happy yet!
What though long anxious years have passed,
Since this true heart was vowed to thine,
Whose beam upon our path shall shine.
Yet never with one hour's regret;
Ay, by the wandering birds, that find
A home beyond the mountain wave,
To bow them to an ocean grave;
Though erst in mournful tears they set;
We shall be happy yet!
It is really pleasant to know that, although the bliss was short in duration, yet the vows of that faithful heart were heard. Here is one other love note :
Another year is dying fast,
A chequered year of joy and woe,
The rose and thorn at once laid low :
Even in the love I knew before,
But I have learnt to love thee more,
Yes, to mine ear thine accents all,
Have grown more welcome and more glad,
And thy departing tread more sad.
Hath bliss no other time can show;
How dearer far its future glow.
Their disappointments we have proved,
Dark clouds across our path have been;
As dark and drearier grew the scene.
To thee, when earthly cares annoy,
Than revel in another's joy.
A temperament so framed must, of necessity, take pleasure in the beauties of Nature. I must make room for a few stanzas of her
ANTICIPATIONS OF THE COUNTRY.
The summer sunshine falls
Startling the dusty walls
The summer skies are bright,
Of human hearts that fight
Summers have passed away
And still their earliest ray
A longing to be far
And not as travellers are;
It comes, it comes at last;
Ere many hours have past,
The faint continuous hum
No more shall near me come
No more the sultry street
No more the whirling wheel,
Oh! how my heart will feel
Blessed to go away,
And lightly o’er the spray
One more I must quote, of a still different strain. It was left without a title, a mere fragment amongst her papers; but the Editor of the “ Dublin University Magazine” has called it
Oh, woe for those whose dearest themes
Must rest within the bosom's fold !
Unheeded by the coarse and cold.