SLENDER-LEAVED GERARDIA. 



SYMPATHY. 



Like the sweet melody which faintly lingers 

 Upon the windharp's strings at close of day, 



When gently touched by evening's dewy fingers 

 It breathes a low and melancholy lay ; 



So the calm voice of sympathy meseemeth ; 



And while its magic spell is round me cast, 

 My spirit in its cloistered silence dreameth, 



And vaguely blends the future with the past. 



But vain such dreams while pain my bosom thrilleth, 

 And mournful memories around me move ; 



E'en friendship's alchemy no balm distilleth, 

 To soothe th' immedicable wound of love. 



Alas ! alas ! passion too soon exhaleth 

 The dewy freshness of the heart's young flowers; 



We water them with tears, but nought availeth, 

 They wither on through all life's later hours. 



