'~' fout of'«)ndit ~obt.
WBU twiligbt.-~ng ilaah
Turns to th~'Pn~• abado,. dim,.
And the seo., with gentle hWih,
Brel\thea a dulcet l"eelper hymn;
'Ti• 1weet to·beat"·the breeze·
Join the lullaby above-
But, oh! mcmnsweet thatt'tb'ew·
le the voice of one we loTe;
'Tis sweet to wake in· June
To the ekylark?a mRtin la.y;
To bear the thrush at noon
Pouring music from the aprlly·;
At eve to lend· our ear
To the wooiag ,of the dove;
But naught so eweet o.nd cle11r
A.a the voice of one we love.
Adth'ongh, wbeu yello1'8 are Bow~
A chii.nge of scene or lot
Each other cberish'd tone
From our memory may blot,
A sound there is that· yet,
Whatever chnnge we prove,
We never can forge~-
'Ti.a the Toioe of one we Ion. H'otu.OJJ SKI'l'n..'o a .!Jistnnt· ~iiu~
WIIY art thou silent 1 Ia thy love a plant
Of such weak fibre· th$t the treacherous 1\ir
Of absence withers what. waa•onoe so fait•1
Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant 1
Yet have·-roy thoughts for thee been vi~lant,
Bound to thy service with unceasing care-
The miud's lenat gMlerous wiali a mendican~
For nought but· what thy happiness could spare.
Speak !-though thinot't. warm heart,. once free to bold
A thousand tender pleasure~, thine and mine,
Be left mot'&''dBIJolate. more·dreary cold
Than a foi'IIAken bird'il·ueat-6ll'd with enow
'Mid its own bash of le&tleaa•eglantine-
Speak, that my torturing doubte their end m"y know 1
W ORDSWOR'rlL