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COMPOSED WHILE CLIMBING THE LEFT ASCENT OF
With many a pause and oft reverted eye
IN THE MANNER OF SPENSER.
O Peace, that on a lilied bank dost love
Last night as I my weary head did pillow
Rejected Slumber! hither wing thy way; “ But leave me with the matin hour, at most! “ As night-closed Floweret to the orient ray, “My sad heart will expand, when I the Maid survey.'
But Love, who heard the silence of my thought, Contrived a too successful wile, I ween : And whispered to himself, with malice fraught“ Too long our Slave the Damsel's smiles hath seen : • To-morrow shall he ken her altered mien!" He spake, and ambushed lay, my
bed The morning shot her dewy glances keen, When as l'gan to lift my drowsy head“ Now, Bard! I'll work thee woe!” the laughing
SLEEP, softly-breathing God! his downy wing
sweet Trance !
My Sara came, with gentlest Look divine;
IMITATED FROM OSSIAN.
The stream with languid murmur creeps,
In Lumin's flowery vale : Beneath the dew the Lily weeps
Slow-waving to the gale. “ Cease, restless yale ! it seems to say,
“ Nor wake me with thy sighing! “ The honours of my vernal day
“ On rapid wing are flying. “ To morrow shall the Traveller come
• Who late beheld me blooming: “ His searching eye shall vainly roam
“ The dreary vale of Lumin." With eager gaze and wetted cheek
My wonted haunts along, Thus, faithful Maiden! thou shalt seek
The Youth of simplest song. But I along the breeze shall roll
The voice of feeble power ; And dwell, the Moon-beam of thy soul,
In Slumber's nightly hour.