166 
THE TRENCH MARIGOLD. 
Time pass’d away, on airy pinion, 
When lo! I met the nymph alone— 
The child had fled her harsh dominion, 
And, hopeless, she was left to mourn. 
To learn the damsel’s name I strove. 
And his who shunn’d her prying eye;— 
The truant child, I found, was Love ! 
The weeping mourner. Jealousy. 
From the Italian. 
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