I loved thee once! Oh! tell me when was it I loved thee not? Was 't in my childhood, boyhood, manhood? Oh ! In all of them I loved thee! And, were I now first life twice told, To live the span of my once, But that was all his life!" "He loved me SHERIDAN Knowles. WILT THOU BE MINE? If thou 'It be mine, the treasures of air, Or in Hope's sweet music is most sweet, Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove, And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high, Like streams that come from heavenward hills, Shall keep our hearts—like meads that lie To be bathed by those eternal rills · Ever green, if thou wilt be mine, love! All this and more the Spirit of Love Can breathe o'er them who feel his spells! It is the spirit's bitterest pain To love and be beloved again, T. MOORE. And yet between a gulf which ever Who, turning from a heartless world, Ask some dear thing which may renew Affection's sever'd links, and be As true as they themselves are true. But Love's bright fount is never pure, Ere they may reach the blessed spring. LANDON. AMBITIOUS LOVE. I am undone ;-there is no living, none, be away. It were all one If That I should love a bright particular star, His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, In our heart's table; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his sweet favour! But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relics! SHAKSPERE. UNCHANGEABLE LOVE. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will ; And around the dear ruin each wish of It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known, As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets, The same look which she turn'd when he rose ! T. MOORE. LOVE AUGURIES. There are a thousand fanciful things Who have loved as young hearts can love so well, Oh! it is not for those whose feelings are cold, What they now might blush to confess, LANDON. ON PARTING. The kiss, dear maid! thy lip hath left Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift Untainted back to thine. |