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But this, as day-spring's flush, was brief

As early bloom or dew;

Alas! 'tis but the wither'd leaf

That wears the enduring hue:

Those rocks along the Rhine's fair shore, Might girdle in their world no more.

For now on manhood's verge they stood, And heard life's thrilling call,

As if a silver clarion woo'd

To some high festival;

And parted as young brothers part,
With love in each unsullied heart.

They parted-soon the paths divide
Wherein our steps were one,
Like river-branches, far and wide,
Dissevering as they run;

And making strangers in their course,
Of waves that had the same bright source.

Met they no more?—once more they met, Those kindred hearts and true!

'Twas on a field of death, where yet The battle-thunders flew,

Though the fierce day was wellnigh past,

And the red sunset smiled its last.

But as the combat closed, they found
For tender thoughts a space,
And e'en upon that bloody ground
Room for one bright embrace,

THE MEETING OF THE BROTHERS.

And pour'd forth on each other's neck
Such tears as warriors need not check.

The mists o'er boyhood's memory spread
All melted with those tears,

The faces of the holy dead

Rose as in vanish'd years;

The Rhine, the Rhine, the ever blest,
Lifted its voice in each full breast!

Oh! was it then a time to die?
It was!-that not in vain
The soul of childhood's purity

And peace might turn again:

A ball swept forth-'t was guided well-
Heart unto heart those brothers fell!

Happy, yes, happy thus to go!

Bearing from earth away Affections, gifted ne'er to know

A shadow-a decay,

A passing touch of change or chill,

A breath of aught whose breath can kill.

And they, between whose sever'd souls,

Once in close union tied,

A gulf is set, a current rolls

For ever to divide ;

Well may they envy such a lot,

Whose hearts yearn on- but mingle not.

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THE LAST WISH.

"Well may I weep to leave this world-thee-all these beautiful woods, and plains, and hills."-Lights and Shadows.

Go to the forest shade,

Seek thou the well-known glade,
Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie,
Gleaming through moss-tufts deep,

Like dark eyes fill'd with sleep,

And bathed in hues of Summer's midnight sky.

Bring me their buds, to shed
Around my dying bed

A breath of May and of the wood's repose;
For I, in sooth, depart

With a reluctant heart,

That fain would linger where the bright sun glows.

Fain would I stay with thee

Alas! this may not be;

Yet bring me still the gifts of happier hours!
Go where the fountain's breast

Catches, in glassy rest,

The dim green light that pours through laurel bowers.

I know how softly bright,
Steep'd in that tender light,

The water-lilies tremble there e'en now;

Go to the pure stream's edge,

And from its whisp'ring sedge

Bring me those flowers to cool my fever'd brow!

THE LAST WISH.

Then, as in Hope's young days,
Track thou the antique maze
Of the rich garden to its grassy mound;
There is a lone white rose,
Shedding, in sudden snows,

Its faint leaves o'er the emerald turf around.

Well know'st thou that fair tree

A murmur of the bee

Dwells ever in the honey'd lime above;
Bring me one pearly flower

Of all its clustering shower-
For on that spot we first reveal'd our love.

Gather one woodbine bough,
Then, from the lattice low

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Of the bower'd cottage which I bade thee mark, When by the hamlet last,

Through dim wood lanes we pass'd,

While dews were glancing to the glowworm's spark.

Haste! to my pillow bear

Those fragrant things and fair;

My hand no more may bind them up at eve-
Yet shall their odour soft

One bright dream round me waft

Of life, youth, summer-all that I must leave!

And, oh! if thou would'st ask
Wherefore thy steps I task,

The grove, the stream, the hamlet vale to trace

'Tis that some thought of me,
When I am gone, may be

The spirit bound to each familiar place.

I bid mine image dwell

(Oh! break not thou the spell!) In the deep wood and by the fountain side; Thou must not, my beloved!

Rove where we two have roved,

Forgetting her that in her Spring-time died!

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