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النشر الإلكتروني

“ O Sister, tired with fruitless chase

Of shadows still receding,

I come to seek a resting-place:

And see! my feet are bleeding.

Oh, I am come in search of rest,

Counsel and aid to borrow,

And to a sister's faithful breast

Confide my secret sorrow.

“ The youth for whom each blushing flower

In varied wreath I braided,

Ungrateful, owns no more my power,

For, ah! their bloom is faded.

“ To him my sweetest lays I sung,

When oft the world had grieved him: No longer now can charm my tongue;

He tells me I've deceived him.

“But, Fancy, if thy lyre were lent,

And cestus, to my keepingBut say, what rosy

innocent Within thine arms is sleeping?

How still the little slumberer lies,

Sweet dreams his rest beguiling!

I wish he would unclose his eyes,

And gaze upon me smiling.

« One kiss !”-“Nay,” Fancy cried; "refrain,

Lest you the urchin waken,
And then he 'll spread his wings again,

And ne'er can be o’ertaken.

6 I found him, tired with insect chase,

Beneath a rose-tree lying:

All faded was his cherub face;

So pale, I thought him dying.

“ I held him to my pitying breast,

For could I then but take him ?

I sang

the innocent to rest,

And, Hope, thou must not wake him.”

“ I will not: cease thy vain alarm.

Ore kiss-he will not feel it

One kiss the slumberer will not harm,

And, Fancy, I must steal it."

He wakes, he wakes! he spreads his wings;

And while for flight preparing,

Alas! see how the dart he flings

The breast of Hope is tearing.

'Twas Love! Too late the truth she found.

And is he then departed ?

None but the hand that dealt the wound,

Can heal the broken-hearted.

SONG.

Hope, away!
Why, thy meteor-flame pursuing,
Should I rush to my undoing?
Why Love's embers still renewing,

Busy fay,
Wouldst thou with vain dreams deceive me,

And of calm content bereave me?

Faithless are thy smiles—then leave me.

Hope, away!

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The

cup of sweet delirious pain Was mingled: then what wishes vain, Restless passions fired my brain,

And swell'd

my

heart!

Yet, how sweet

The Siren music to my ear !

Is it death indeed to hear ?

Oh, once more the sounds so dear,

Hope, repeat. -Hasten, bind me to the mast!

Urge the lingering vessel past,
Lest the charmer's song at last

Forbid retreat.

Hope, farewell

No more, no more thy melting strain
Can reach my ear; and Love in vain
Lights her bright watch-star. See! the main,

With angry swell,

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