 | Poems |  |
118
TO ------.
Oh! could I come when fays have power,
And Sleep o'er mortals holds her sway,
There, in that silent moonlight hour,
I'd steal thy fickle heart away;
I'd bear it far, where none might see,
True constancy from mine to learn;
And still, while it remained with me,
'Twould be a pledge for thy return.
And Sleep o'er mortals holds her sway,
There, in that silent moonlight hour,
I'd steal thy fickle heart away;
I'd bear it far, where none might see,
True constancy from mine to learn;
And still, while it remained with me,
'Twould be a pledge for thy return.
But oh! where shall I seek that heart
Which thousands claim, but none may keep?
The gift which daylight sees depart,
Is it resumed before thy sleep?
Shall I seek out each beauteous maid
Who o'er thee held a transient sway?
In vain—where'er thy heart was laid,
Her tears have washed the trace away.
Which thousands claim, but none may keep?
The gift which daylight sees depart,
Is it resumed before thy sleep?
Shall I seek out each beauteous maid
Who o'er thee held a transient sway?
In vain—where'er thy heart was laid,
Her tears have washed the trace away.
119
Then must I sit within my bower,
Unwitting where the prize to find,
And smile as each successive hour
Sees changing still thy wavering mind;
And still repeat the wish in vain,
That thou wouldst live for me alone—
Or that to ease each maiden's pain
Thy cruel power to please were gone.
Unwitting where the prize to find,
And smile as each successive hour
Sees changing still thy wavering mind;
And still repeat the wish in vain,
That thou wouldst live for me alone—
Or that to ease each maiden's pain
Thy cruel power to please were gone.
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