P O E T R Y. 939 



This, since, the fairest garden that the world 

 Has wituess'd, by the fabling sons of Greece 

 Hesperian nani'd who feign'd the Malchtul guard 

 Of the scal'd Dragon, and the Golden Fruit. 

 Such was this Silvan Paradise ; and here • 

 The loveliest pair, from a hard world remote, 

 Upon each other's neck reclin'd ; their breath 

 Alone was heard, wlien the dove ceas'd on high 

 Her plaint ; and tenderly their faithful arms 

 Infolded each otiier. 



Thou dim clotid, 

 That from the search of men these beauteous vales 

 Hast clos'd, oh doubly veil them. Butala.s, 

 How short the dream of human transport ! Here 

 In vain they built the leafy bow'r of lore. 

 Or cull'd the sweetest flowers and fairest fruit, 

 "i'he hours unheeded stole! but ah, not long — 

 Again the hollow tempest of the night 

 Sounds through the leaves ; the inmost woods resound — 

 Slow comes the dawn, but neither ship nor sail 

 Along the rocking of the windy waste 

 Is seen : the dash of the dark-heavins; wave 

 Alone is heard. Start from your bed of bliss 

 Poor vidtims, never more shall j e behold 

 Your native vales again ; and thou, sweet child, 

 Who, list'ning to the voice of love, has left 

 Thy friends, thy coiuitry, — oh may the wan hue 

 Of pining memory, the sunk cheek, the eye 

 Where tenderness yet dwells, atone, (if love 

 Atonement need, by cruelty and wrong 

 Beset,) atone e'en now thy rash resolves. 

 Ah, fruitless hope ! Day after 3ay thy bloom 

 Fades, and the ten<Icr lustre of thine eye 

 Is dim'd ; thy form, amid creation, seems 

 The only drooping thing. 



Thy look was soft, 

 And yet most animated, and thy step 

 iJght as the roe's upon the mountains. Now # 



Thou sittest hopeless, pale, beneath the tree 

 That fann'd its joyous leaves above thy head. 

 Where love had deck'd the blooming bow'r andstrew'd 

 The sweets of summer : Death is on thy check, 

 And thy chill hand the pressure scarce returns 

 Of him, who agoniz'd and hopeless, hangs 

 With tears and trembling o'er thee. Spare the sight, 

 She faints — she dies : — * 



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