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-Give me but
Something whereunto I may bind my heart;
Something to love, to rest upon, to clasp
Affection's tendrils round.

Wouldst thou wear the gift of immortal bloom?
Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb?
Drink of this cup! it is richly fraught
With balm from the gardens of Genii brought ;
Drink, and the spoiler shall pass thee by,

When the


all scatter'd like rose-leaves lie.

And would not the youth of my soul be gone,
If the lov'd had left me, one by one ?
Take back the cup that may never bless,
The gift that would make me brotherless !
How should I live, with no kindred eye
To reflect mine immortality ?

Wouldst thou have empire, by sign or spell,
Over the mighty in air that dwell ?
Wouldst thou call the spirits of shore and steep
To fetch thee jewels from ocean's deep ?
Wave but this rod, and a viewless band
Slaves to thy will, shall around thee stand.

And would not fear, at my coming then,
Hush every

voice in the homes of men ?
Would not bright eyes in my presence quail ?
Young checks with a nameless thrill turn pale ?
No gift be mine that aside would turn
The human love for whose founts I yearri !

Wouldst thou then read thro' the hearts of those

Upon whose faith thou hast sought repose ?
Wear this rich gem! it is charm’d to show
When a change comes over affection's glow;
Look on its flushing or fading hue,
And learn if the trusted be false or true !

Keep, keep the gem, that I still may trust,
Tho' my heart's wealth be but pour'd on dust!
Let not a doubt in my soul have place,
To dim the light of a lov'd one's face ;
Leave to the earth its warm sunny smile-
That glory would pass could I look on guile!

Say then what boon of my power shall be
Favour'd of spirits ! pour'd forth on thee?
Thou scornest the treasures of wave and mine,
Thou wilt not drink of the cup divine,

Thou art fain with a mortal's lot to rest

Answer me! how may I grace it best?

Oh! give me no sway o'er the powers unseen,
But a human heart where my own may lean!
A friend, one tender and faithful friend,
Whose thoughts' free current with mine may blend,
And leaving not either on earth alone,
Bid the bright calm close of our lives be one!


“Oh! mes Amis, rappelez vous quelquefois mes vers; mon am: y est empreinte."--CORINNE.

When will ye think of me, my friends?

When will ye think of me ?--
When the last red light, the farewell of day,
From the rock and the river is passing away,
When the air with a deep'ning hush is fraught,
And the heart grows burden'd with tender thought-

Then let it be!

When will ye think of me, kind friends?

When will


think of me?

When the rose of the rich midsummer time

Is fill?d with the hues of its glorious prime ;
When ye gather its bloom, as in bright hours filed,
From the walks where my footsteps no more may tread;

Then let it be !

When will ye think of me, sweet friends?

When will ye think of me? When the sudden tears o'erflow your eye At the sound of some olden melody ; When


hear the voice of a mountain stream, When ye feel the charm of a poet's dream ;

Then let it be!

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