LOVE SHUT GOT OF THE FLOWER GARDEN. 267 



Leave me to my new found peace ; 



Leave me to my late repose : 

 Her* at length my troubles cease 



Here my heart forgets its woes 



Joy, of purer influence born, 



Hope of loftier aim I know 

 Now thy stormy power I scorn ; 



Leave me, child ! thou need'st must go. 



Art thou fled without a word ? 



Closed the porch and barred the door : 

 Are thy loved companions gone ? 



Fair-haired youth had flown before. 



Must I from each idol part ; 



To each transport bid adieu, 

 Which around my youthful heart 



Once its blest delusions threw ? 



Yet sweet Love ! with tears and grief, 



I thy wings receding see ; 

 Sorrow still on parting waits, 



Hope and joy retire with thee ! 



