GERTRUDE OF WYOMING. PART III. I. O LOVE! in such a wilderness as this, And here thou art a god indeed divine. The views, the walks, that boundless joy inspire! Roll on, ye days of raptur'd influence, shine! Nor blind with ecstacy's celestial fire, Shall love behold the spark of earth-born time expire. D II. Three little moons, how short! amidst the grove, And pastoral savannas they consume! While she, beside her buskin'd youth to rove, Delights, in fancifully wild costume, Her lovely brow to shade with Indian plume; But not to chase the deer in forest gloom; 'Tis but the breath of heav'n-the blessed air And interchange of hearts unknown, unseen to share. III. What though the sportive dog oft round them note, Or fawn, or wild bird bursting on the wing; Or writhing from the brook its victim bring? But, fed by Gertrude's hand, still let them sing, That shade ev'n now her love, and witness'd first her vows. IV. Now labyrinths, which but themselves can pierce, And pines their lawny walk encompass round; "Twas but when o'er each heart th' idea stole, (Perchance awhile in joy's oblivion drown'd) That come what may, while life's glad pulses roll, Indissolubly thus should soul be knit to soul. |