205 
My heart, be calm! why should I sigh r i 
Tears — tears — Avhy will ye fall? 
The Swedish girl should scorn to stand 
Between him and his chosen land! 
Ay, take thy bride, — the gifted one,— 
And glory in her fame! 
And when, pervading like the sun, 
Her genius lights thy name, 
Forget amidst its dazzling rays, 
How dim thine own appears, 
Nor think upon the heartfelt praise, 
Was thine in former years, 
When mingling love, and hope, and pride, 
With her now coldly thrown aside. 
Ay, wed another — wed the great! 
Gain wealth, but with it care! 
Soon shalt thou feel its galling weight, 
And mourn each glittering snare 
