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The fountains mingle with the river,

And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotiou ;
Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle-

W by not I with thine ?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,

And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother:
And the sunlight clasps the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea ;-
What are all these kissings worth,

If thou kiss not me ?
January, 1820.

TO E* ** V***

MADONNA, wherefore hast thou sent to me

Sweet basil and mignionette ?
Embleming love and health, which never yet
In the same wreath might be.

Alas, and they are wet!
Is it with thy kisses or thy tears?

For never rain or dew
Such fragrance drew

From plant or flower--the very doubt endears

My saduess ever new, The sighs I breathe, the tears I shed for thee, March, 1821.


I rear tly kisses, gentle maiden,

Thou needest not fear mine;
My spirit is too deeply laden

Ever to burtben thine.

I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion,

Thou needest not fear mine;
Innocent is the heart's devotion

With which I worship thine.


When the lamp is shattered
The light in the cust lies dead-

When the cloud is scattered,
The rainbow's glory is shed.

When the lute is broken,
Sweet tones are remembered not;

When the lips have spoken,
Loved accents are soon forgot.

As music and splendour
Survive not the lamp and the lute,

The heart's echoes render
No song when the spirit is mute:

No song but sad dirges,
Like the wind through a ruined cell,

Or the mournful surges
That ring the dead seaman's knell.

When hearts have once mingled
Love first leaves the well-built nest,

The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possest.

O Love! who bewailest?
The frailty of all things here,

Why choose you the frailest For your cradle, your home, and your bier ?

Its passions will rock thee
As the storms rock the ravens on high :

Bright reason will mock thee,
Like the sun from a wintry sky.

From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home

Leave thee naked to laughter,
When leaves fall and cold winds come, .


(With what truth I may say

Roma! Roma! Ronia !
Non e piu come era prima !)

My lost William, thou in whom

Some bright spirit lived, and did That decaying robe consume

Which its lustre fainily hid,

Here its ashes find a tomb,

But beneath this pyramid
Thou art not if a thing divine
Like thee can die, thy funeral shrine
Is thy mother's grief and mine.

Where art thou, my gentle child:

Let me think thy spirit feeds,
Within its life intense and mild,
The love of living leaves and weeds,
Among these tombs and ruins wild ;-

Let me think that through low seeds
Of the sweet flowers and sunny grass,
Into their hues and scents may pass,

A portion-
June, 1819.


A PORTAL as of shadowy adamant

Stands yawning on the highway of the life
Which we all tread, a cavern huge and gaunt;

Around it rages an unceasing strife
Of shadows, like the restless clouds that haunt
The gap of some cleft mountain, lifted high
Into the whirlwinds of the upper sky.

And many passed it by with careless tread,
Not knowing that a shadowy [

) Tracks every traveller even to where the dead

Wait peacefully for their companion new; But others, by more curious huinour led,

Pause to examine,--these are very few,

And they learn little there, except to know That shadows follow them where'er they go.


The flower that smiles to-day

Tomorrow dies;
All that we wish to stay,

Tempts and then fies;
What is this world's delight ?
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief even as bright.

Virtue, how frail it is !

Friendship too rare !
Love, how it sells poor bliss

For proud despair !
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy and all
Which ours we call,

Whilst skies are blue and bright,

Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night

Make glad the day;
Whilst yet the calm hours creep,
Dream thou—and from thy sleep
Then wake to weep.

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