Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub

TO HELEN.

The gift, dear maid, which thou hast sent

To gladden me to-day,
I'll treasure as thy monument

When thou art far away.
'Twill lighten many a dreary mood,
To think how young, how fair, how good,

How fancifully gay

Was she whose smiles once deign'd to bless My spirit in its loneliness.

The sunshine of thine open brow

For me is nearly o'er,
And dim forebodings tell me now

That we shall meet no more.
But thou art with the vision'd things,
The dreams and dear imaginings,

The treasured thoughts of yore,
Which in my breast still swarm and play
On many a mental holiday.

Thy living presence, artless one,

Oh! bear it far from me;
I know not what its charms had done

Had I been fancy-free.
But now e'en from thy smiles I shrink,
And oh! 'twould break my heart to think

That I was loved by thee;
For, maiden, not that angel eye
Must shake my soul's fidelity.

Farewell! and if for aye we part,
May grief ne'er cloud thy brow,

Nor Fashion make thy guileless heart
As cold—as mine is now.

Yet, trust me, wheresoe'er I rove,

I'll love thee with a brother's love,
Nor thou despise my vow;

But grant me still, in woe or weal,

Such love as gentle sisters feel.
Aug. 1823.

SONG.

I.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie!—here's a hearty health to thee!

For thine eye so bright, thy form so light, and thy step so firm and free;

For all thine artless elegance, and all thy native grace,

For the music of thy mirthful voice, and the sunshine of thy face;

For thy guileless looks, and speech sincere, yet sweet as speech can be,—

Here's a health, my Scottish lassie!—here's a hearty health to thee.

II.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—though my

glow of youth is o'er, And I, as once I felt and dream'd, must feel and

dream no more; Though the world, with all its frosts and storms,

has chjll'd my soul at last, And genius with the foodful looks of youthful

friendship past; Tho' my path is dark and lonely now, o'er this

world's dreary sea,— Here's a health, my Scottish lassie ! here's a hearty

health to thee!

in. Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—tho' I feel

that not for me Is thine eye so bright, thy form so light, and thy

step so firm and free; Tho' thou with cold and careless looks wilt often

pass me by,

Unconscious of my swelling heart and of my wistful eye; Tho' thou wilt bless some happier love, nor care a

jot for me,— Here's a health, my Scottish lassie! here's a hearty

health to thee!

IV.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—when I meet

thee in the throng Of merry youths and maidens dancing lightsomely

along

I'll dream away an hour or twain still gazing on

thy form, As it flashes thro' the baser crowd, like lightning

thro' a storm: And I perhaps shall touch thy hand, and share thy

looks of glee, And for once, my Scottish lassie! dance a giddy

dance with thee.

v.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—I shall think

of thee at even, When I see its first and fairest star come smiling

up thro' Heaven; I shall hear thy sweet and touching voice in every

wind that grieves, As it whirls from the abandon'd oak its wither'd

autumn leaves; In the gloom of the wild forest, in the stillness of

the sea, I shall think, my Scottish lassie—I shall often

think of thee.

VI.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—in my sadjind

lonely hours The thought of thee comes o'er me like the breath

of distant flowers; Like the music that enchants mine ear, the sights

that bless mine eye, Lake the verdure of the meadow, like the azure of

the sky,

Like the rainbow in the evening, like the blossom

on the tree, Is the thought, my Scottish lassie—is the lonely

thought of thee.

VII.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie—tho' my muse must soon be dumb,

(For graver thoughts and duties, with my graver years are come)

Tho' my soul must break the bonds of earth and learn to soar on high,

And to look on this world's follies with a calm and sober eye,

Tho' the merry wine must cease to flow, the songbe mute for me,—

Still to thee, my Scottish lassie, still I'll drink a health to thee.

VIII.

Here's to thee, my Scottish lassie !—here's a parting health to thee!

May thine be still a cloudless lot, tho' it be far from me:

May still thy laughing eye be bright, and open still thy brow,

Thy thoughts as pure, thy speech as free, thy heart as light as now!

And whatsoe'er may be my fate, my dearest toast shall be

Still a health, my Scottish lassie, still a hearty health to thee!

Windsor, 1824.

« AnteriorContinuar »