270 HENRY KIRKE WHITE's REMAINS. 



I sliall be in Cambridge next month, being admitted 



a sizar at St John's. Trinity would have suited my 



plans better, but the expenses of that college are greater. 



With thanks for your kind remembrance of me, I 



remain, 



Dear Sir, 

 Very respectfully and thankfully yours, 



H. K. White. 



Yes, my stray steps have wander'd, wander d far 



From thee, and long, heart-soothing Poesy ! 



And many a flower, which in the passing time 



My heart hath register'd, nipp'd by the chill 



Of undeserved neglect, hath shrunk and died. 



Heart-soothing Poesy ! — Tho' thou hast ceas'd 



To hover o'er the many voiced strings 



Of my long silent lyre, yet thou canst still 



Call the warm tear from its thrice^hallow'd cell, 



And with recalled images of bliss 



Warm my reluctant heart. — Yes, I would throw, 



Once more would throAv, a quick and hurried hand 



O'er the responding chords. — It hath not ceas'd — 



It cannot, will not cease ; the heavenly warmth 



Plays round my heart, and mantles o'er my cheek ; 



Still, tho' unbidden, plays. — Fair Poesy ! 



The summer and the spring, the wind and rain. 



Sunshine and storm, with various interchange, 



Have mark'd full many a day, and week, and month, 



Since by dark wood, or hamlet far retir'd, 



Spell-struck, with thee I loiter'd. — Sorceress ! 



I cannot burst thy bonds ! — It is but lift 



Thy blue eyes to that deep bespangled vault. 



Wreathe thy enchanted tresses round thine arm, 



And mutter some obscure and charmed rhyme, 



And I could follow thee, on thy night's work. 



Up to the regions of thrice-chastened fire, 



Or in the caverns of the ocean flood, 



Thrid the light mazes of thy volant foot. 



Yet other duties call me, and mine ear 



Must turn away from the high minstrelsy 



