8. If thou wert mine, had all been hush'd; 9. Yes, once the rural scene was sweet, 10. But, now, I seek for other joys, To think, would drive my soul to madness; In thoughtless throngs, and empty noise, Yet, even in these, a thought will steal, And fiends might pity what I feel, To know, that thou art lost for ever. STANZAS. 1. I WOULD I were a careless child, Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave; 2. Fortune! take back these cultur'd lands, I hate the slaves that cringe around: Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar, I ask but this-again to rove Through scenes my youth hath known before. 3. Few are my years, and, yet, I feel The world was ne'er design'd for me; 4. I lov'd-but those I lov'd, are gone, When all its former hopes are dead! 5. How dull to hear the voice of those Whom rank, or chance, whom wealth, or power, Have made; though neither friends or foes, Associates of the festive hour; Give me again a faithful few, In years and feelings still the same, And I will fly the midnight crew, Where boist'rous Joy is but a name. 6. And Woman! lovely Woman, thou! This busy scene of splendid woe; Which Virtue knows, or seems to know. 7. Fain would I fly the haunts of men, Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind. (1) PSALM 55, verse 6. -« And I said, Oh! that I had << wings like a dove, then would I fly away and be at << rest. » This verse also constitutes a part of the most beautiful anthem in our language. LINES WRITTEN BENEATH AN ELM, IN THE CHURCHYARD OF HARROW ON THE HILL. Sept. 2, 1807. SPOT of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Invite the bosom to recall the past, And seem to whisper, as they gently swell, ་་ Take, while thou canst, a ling'ring, last farewell! » When Fate shall chill at length this fever'd breast, And calin its cares and passions into rest; Oft, have I thought, 'twould sooth my dying hour, If aught may sooth, when Life resigns her power, To know some humbler grave, some narrow cell, Would hide my bosom, where it lov'd to dwell; With this fond dream, methinks 'twere sweet to die, And here it linger'd, here my heart might lie; |