1831.] [ 501 ] 



TO MARY IN ITALY. 



And thus all things have comforting 



In that, that doth them comfort bring ; 



Save I, alas! whom neither sun. 



Nor aught that God hath wrought and done. 



Way comfort aught ; as though I were 



A thing not made for comfort here : 



For, being absent from your sight. 



Which are my joy and whole delight, 



My comfort and my pleasure too. 



How can I joy ? How should I do ? 



Earl of Surkev's Poems. 



I WAIT for thy coming 



In the sweet-scented eves. 

 When the birds are humming 



In the gloom of the leaves. 

 And the fountain danceth 



Its path along. 

 Like a creature that loveth 



To speak in song. 

 The bird and the fountain 



Rejoice in their lot ; 

 But my spirit is sad. 



For I see thee not. 



I wait for thee, love : 



On the emerald deep 

 The sun, like a warrior. 



Is sinking to sleep. 

 I see the leaves shining 



Around the dove's nest ; 

 Why doth she sit pining 



Alone in her rest i 

 Her companion returneth 



From the cool orange-tree; 

 But thy feet return not — 



Return not, to me ! 



I am weary of listening 



To the voice of the breeze. 

 And the white bird glistening 



Among the almond-trees ; 

 It lea|)cth on the boughs. 



While its silver wings glow 

 With the light through the leaves. 



As it darts to and fro. 

 I turn away in tears 



From the fountain and tree ; 

 I care not for bird or flower. 



If thou comest not to me. .W. 



