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But if in pursuit we go deeper,
Allured by the gleam that shone, Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper,
Like Love, the bright ore is gone.
Has Hope, like the bird in the story?,
That fitted from tree to tree With the talisman's glittering glory-
Has Hope been that bird to thee? On branch after branch alighting,
The gem did she still display, And, when nearest and most inviting,
Then waft the fair gem away?
If thus the sweet hours have fleeted,
When sorrow herself look'd bright; If thus the fond hope has cheated,
That led thee along so light;
2 " The bird, having got its prize, settled not far off with the talisman in its mouth. The prince drew near it, hoping it would drop it; but, as he approached, the bird took wing, and settled again,” &c.—Arabian Nights Story of Kummir al Zummaun and the Princess of China.
If thus the unkind world wither
Each feeling that once was dear;— Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep with thee tear for tear.
NO, NOT MORE WELCOME.
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers
Of music fall on the sleeper's ear, When, half-awakening from fearful slumbers,
He thinks the full quire of heav'n is near,Then came that voice, when, all forsaken,
This heart long had sleeping lain,
To such benign, blessed sounds again.
Sweet voice of comfort! 'twas like the stealing
Of summer wind through some wreathed shell; Each secret winding, each inmost feeling
Of all my soul echoed to its spell!
I'd live years of grief and pain
By such benign blessed sounds again!
WHEN FIRST I MET THEE.
AIR-O Patrick, fly from me.
When first I met thee, warm and young,
There shone such truth about thee,
I did not dare to doubt thee.
Still clung with hope the fonder,
But go, deceiver! go,
Trust one so false, so low,
When every tongue thy follies named,
I fled th' unwelcome story; Or found, in even the faults they blamed,
Some gleams of future glory.
I still was true when nearer friends
Conspired to wrong, to slight thee;
But go, deceiver! g0,-
From pleasure's dream, to know
Even now, though youth its bloom has shed,
No lights of age adorn thee;
And they who flatter-scorn thee.
No genial ties enwreath it;
Go-go-though worlds were thine,
One taintless tear of mine
When even those ties shall sever;
On her thou'st lost for ever!