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Madeline

With other poems and parables: By Thomas Gordon Hake

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
XXV. ON THE IMAGE.
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
 LI. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
 LX. 
 LXI. 
 LXII. 
 LXIII. 
 LXIV. 
 LXV. 


212

XXV. ON THE IMAGE.

Once she was seen, and now is seen no more;
Once was she found, and now is ever lost;
Her beauty known not since, and not before;
Of all loved forms her image loved the most.
Where is she now? her image tarries here:
Can two so like, so good, not meet again?
Is one of earth, one of a higher sphere?
A moment one, and then for ever twain?
Now in conjunction's ever-sweet delight,
Her beauty vanishing her image left,
One ever moving from the other's sight;
So happy one, the other so bereft.
She lives, her image else had also slept.
But is death catching, save as sad and lone?
Alive by her the image was not kept,
And dead the image is not with her gone.

213

EPODE.

All women are alike, though not in type:
All taste the same, at divers seasons ripe.
A first affection, though on record kept,
Falls out of date, is set aside unwept.
No leisure for remorse, the pang postponed,
The unkind parting felt but unatoned.
To this account some penance still is laid,
A debt that to the close is never paid.
A second love this sacrifice requires:
The first to bury ere it quite expires.
A hundredfold the gain for every loss
Should you once more the witches' circle cross.
Still smiles usurp the seat of the caress
And issue invitations to the lip;
Still sapid fruits each other's dimples press,
And courtly flowers each other's nectar sip.