RESIGN ATI ON. 
Oh ! we have met—again thine eye 
Has poured its radiance on my heart; 
Again thy voice’s melody 
Has bid each trembling fibre start. 
But the presumptuous hope was vain, 
By fond delusive fancy taught, 
That absent, I could give thee pain ; 
Or present, claim one tender thought. 
Farewell to fancy’s glittering dream, 
For thee I strike the lyre no more— 
Farewell the dear enchanting theme— 
’Tis past—the reign of hope is o’er. 
No more shall these thy peace invade, 
Silent—alone—“ I’ll muse on thee : 
Till on my voice thy name shall fade, 
And death’s last struggle set me free.” 
