Is it hope makes me linger? the dim thought, that sorrow Means parting? that only in absence lies pain? It was well with me once if I saw him: to-morrow May bring one of the old happy moments again. Last night we stood earnestly talking together- As yesterday was, so to-morrow will be. Their love, let me know, must grow strong and yet stronger, Their passion burn more, ere it ceases to burn; They must love—while they must: But the hearts that love longer Are rare: ah! most loves but flow once, and return. I shall suffer; but they will outlive their affection: I shall weep; but their love will be cooling: and he, As he drifts to fatigue, discontent, and dejection, Will be brought, thou poor heart! how much nearer to thee! For cold is his eye to mere beauty, who, breaking The strong band which beauty around him hath furl'd, Disenchanted by habit, and newly awaking, Looks languidly round on a gloom-buried world. Through that gloom he will see but a shadow ap pearing, Perceive but a voice as I come to his side: But deeper their voice grows, and nobler their bearing, Whose youth in the fires of anguish hath died. Then to wait. But what notes down the wind, hark! are driving? 'Tis he! 'tis the boat, shooting round by the trees! Let my turn, if it will come, be swift in arriving! Ah! hope cannot long lighten torments like these. Hast thou yet dealt him, O Life, thy full measure? REQUIESCAT. STREW on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew. In quiet she reposes: Ah! would that I did too. Her mirth the world required: She bath'd it in smiles of glee. But her heart was tired, tired, And now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, But for peace her soul was yearning, |