 | Metrical Effusions |  |
108
“NEAR YONDER BOWER.”
Near yonder bower, by fancy drest,
Where she had built her secret nest;
I saw a parent-bird distrest
Fly round, and round incessantly.
Where she had built her secret nest;
I saw a parent-bird distrest
Fly round, and round incessantly.
Some rude, unfeeling passer-by
Had stol'n the source of all her joy;
And now, with many a piercing cry,
She mourn'd her loss most plaintively.
Had stol'n the source of all her joy;
And now, with many a piercing cry,
She mourn'd her loss most plaintively.
109
Lamenting her disastrous lot,
She hover'd round that sacred spot;
And, though she knew it held them not,
She call'd her young ones mournfully.
She hover'd round that sacred spot;
And, though she knew it held them not,
She call'd her young ones mournfully.
Poor hapless warbler! not alone
Shalt thou indulge thy plaintive moan;
Such feelings hath this bosom known,
This heart shall share thy agony.
Shalt thou indulge thy plaintive moan;
Such feelings hath this bosom known,
This heart shall share thy agony.
For I have seen that speaking eye,
Where friendship I could once espy,
Glancing disdainful, proud, and high,
When I have look'd for sympathy.
Where friendship I could once espy,
Glancing disdainful, proud, and high,
When I have look'd for sympathy.
I have beheld that lovely face,
Where once, enraptur'd, I could trace
Of sweetest smiles the winning grace,
Look coldly, dark, and scornfully.
Where once, enraptur'd, I could trace
Of sweetest smiles the winning grace,
Look coldly, dark, and scornfully.
110
And it has been my fate to see
That heart so generous, frank, and free,
By harsh suspicions clos'd to me
In mute insensibility.
That heart so generous, frank, and free,
By harsh suspicions clos'd to me
In mute insensibility.
Yet I, like thee, sweet bird! in vain
Essay to break the potent chain,
Which binds me to the spot, where pain
Still mocks my fond credulity.
Essay to break the potent chain,
Which binds me to the spot, where pain
Still mocks my fond credulity.
But happier far thy lot than mine;
Love, peace, and joy may yet be thine;
Another spring shall see thee join
Nature's returning jubilee.
Love, peace, and joy may yet be thine;
Another spring shall see thee join
Nature's returning jubilee.
Mine is, alas! a harder doom;
No more shall Julia's smiles illume
My thorny path: but deepest gloom,
And horror, be my destiny.
No more shall Julia's smiles illume
My thorny path: but deepest gloom,
And horror, be my destiny.
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