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The sympathetic glow;
Had it not been for you !
In every care and ill;
The tenebrific scene,
My Davie or my Jean.
XI. 0, low that name inspires my style ! The words come skelpin rank and file,
Amaist before I ken!
Were glowrin owre my pen.
Till ance he's fairly het;
Should rue this hasty ride,
His sweaty wizen'd hide.
OCCASIONED BY THE UNFORTUNATE ISSUE OF 4
Alas ! how oft does Goodness wound itself,
While care-untroubled mortals sleep!
And wanders here to wail and weep! With woe I nightly vigils keep,
Beneath thy wan unwarming beam ; And mourn, in lamentation deep,
How life and love are all a dream.
The faintly-marked distant hill ;
Reflected in the gurgling rill :
Thou busy pow'r, Remembrance, cease!
My sad, love-lorn lamentings claim ;
No shepherd's pipe-Arcadian strains ;
No fabled tortures, quaint and tame: The plighted faith ; the mutual flame;
The oft attested pow’rs above : The promis'd Father's tender name :
These were the pledges of my love!
IV. Encircled in her clasping arms,
How have the raptur'd moments flown! How have I wish'd for fortune's charms,
For her dear sake, and her's alone! And must I think it! is she gone,
My secret heart's exulting boast ? And does she heedless hear my groan?
And is she eyer, ever lost?
Oh! can she bear so base a heart,
So lost to honour, lost to truth, As from the fondest lover part,
The plighted husband of her youth! Alas! life's path may be unsmooth
Her way may lie thro’ rough distress! Then, who her pangs and pains will sooth,
Her sorrows share, and make them less?
Enraptur'd more, the more enjoy'd,
My fondly-treasur'd thoughts employ'd. That breast how dreary now, and void,
For her too scanty once of room!
Ev'n ev'ry ray of hope destroy'd,
And not a wish to gild the gloom!
VII. The morn that warns the approaching day,
Awakes me up to toil and woe : I see the hours in long array,
That I must suffer, lingering, slow. Full many a pang, and many a throe,
Keen recollection's direful train, Must wring my soul, ere Phæbus, low,
Shall kiss the distant, western main.
And when my nightly couch I try,
Sore-harass'd out with care and grief, My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye,
Keep watchings with the nightly thief: Or if I slumber, fancy, chief,
Reigns haggard-wild, in sore affright: Ev'n day, all-bitter, brings relief,
From such a horror-breathing night.
IX. 0! thou bright queen, who o'er the expanse,
Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway! Oft has thy silent-marking glance
Observ'd us, fondly-wand'ring, stray !
While love's luxurious pulse heat high,
Oh! scenes in strong remembrance set!
Scenes, never, never, to return!
Again I feel, again I burn!
Life's weary vale I'll wander thro?:
A faithless woman's broken vow.
Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care,
I sit me down and sigh :
To wretches such as I!
What sick’ning scenes appear!
Must be my bitter doom ;
But with the closing tomb !