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THE FAIRY'S REPROACH.

BULWER LYTTON.

B

Y the glow-worm's lamp in the dewy brake;
By the gossamer's airy net;

By the shifting skin of the faithless snake,

Oh, teach me to forget :

For none, ah, none,

Can teach so well that human spell,

As thou, false one!

By the fairy dance on the greensward smooth;
By the winds of the gentle west;

By the loving stars, when their soft looks soothe

The waves on their mother's breast;

236

THE FAIRY'S REPROACH.

Teach me thy lore,

By which, like withered flowers,

The leaves of buried hours

Blossom no more!

By the tent in the violet's bell;

By the may on the scented bough;

By the lone green isle where my sisters dwell;
And thine own forgotten vow!

Teach me to live,

Nor feed on thoughts that pine

For love so false as thine!

Teach me thy lore,

And one thou lov'st no more

Will bless thee, and forgive.*

* Reprinted from "The Pilgrims of the Rhine," by permission

of Messrs George Routledge & Sons.

NYDIA'S LOVE-SONG.

BULWER LYTTON.

HE wind and the beam loved the rose,

And the rose loved one;

For who recks the wind where it blows?

Or loves not the sun?

None knew whence the humble wind stole

Poor sport of the skies

None dreamt that the wind had a soul,

In its mournful sighs!

O happy beam! how canst thou prove
That bright love of thine?

In thy light is the proof of thy love,
Thou hast but to shine!

238

NYDIA'S LOVE-SONG.

How its love can the wind reveal?

Unwelcome its sigh;

Mute-mute to its rose let it steal—

Its proof is to die!”*

* Reprinted from "The Last Days of Pompeii," by permission

of Messrs George Routledge & Sons.

A VALENTINE.

LORD MACAULAY.

QAIL, day of music, day of love,
On earth below, in air above.
In air the turtle fondly moans,
The linnet pipes in joyous tones;
On earth the postman toils along,
Bent double by huge bales of song,
Where, rich with many a gorgeous dye,
Blazes all Cupid's heraldry—

Myrtles and roses, doves and sparrows,
Love-knots and altars, lamps and arrows.
What nymph without wild hopes and fears
The double rap this morning hears?
Unnumbered lasses, young and fair,

From Bethnal Green to Belgrave Square,

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