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The Works of William Cowper

Comprising his poems, correspondence, and translations. With a life of the author, by the editor, Robert Southey

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WRITTEN AFTER LEAVING HER AT NEW BURNS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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25

WRITTEN AFTER LEAVING HER AT NEW BURNS.

At Berkhamstead.
How quick the change from joy to woe!
How chequer'd is our lot below!
Seldom we view the prospect fair,
Dark clouds of sorrow, pain, and care,
(Some pleasing intervals between,)
Scowl over more than half the scene.
Last week with Delia, gentle maid,
Far hence in happier fields I stray'd,
While on her dear enchanting tongue
Soft sounds of grateful welcome hung,
For absence had withheld it long.
“Welcome, my long-lost love, she said,
E'er since our adverse fates decreed
That we must part, and I must mourn
'Till once more bless'd by thy return,
Love, on whose influence I relied
For all the transports I enjoy'd,
Has play'd the cruel tyrant's part
And turn'd tormentor to my heart.
But let me hold thee to my breast,
Dear partner of my joy and rest,
And not a pain, and not a fear,
Or anxious doubt, shall enter there.”
Happy, thought I, the favour'd youth,
Bless'd with such undissembled truth!—
Five suns successive rose and set,
And saw no monarch in his state,

26

Wrapp'd in the blaze of majesty,
So free from every care as I.—
Next day the scene was overcast;
Such day till then I never pass'd,—
For on that day, relentless fate!
Delia and I must separate.
Yet e'er we look'd our last farewell,
From her dear lips this comfort fell:—
“Fear not that time, where'er we rove,
Or absence, shall abate my love.”
And can I doubt, my charming maid,
As unsincere what you have said?
Banish'd from thee to what I hate,
Dull neighbours and insipid chat,
No joy to cheer me, none in view,
But the dear hope of meeting you;
And that through passion's optic seen,
With ages interposed between;—
Bless'd with the kind support you give,
'Tis by your promised truth I live;
How deep my woes, how fierce my flame,
You best may tell, who feel the same.