Lines by a Fond Lover

Lovely maid, with rapture swelling,
      Should these pages meet thine eye,
  Clouds of absence soft dispelling;—
      Vacant memory heaves a sigh.

As the rose, with fragrance weeping,
      Trembles to the tuneful wave,
  So my heart shall twine unsleeping,
      Till it canopies the grave.

Though another’s smile’s requited,
      Envious fate my doom should be;
  Joy forever disunited,
      Think, ah! think, at times on me!

Oft, amid the spicy gloaming,
      Where the brakes their songs instil,
  Fond affection silent roaming,
      Loves to linger by the rill—

There, when echo’s voice consoling,
      Hears the nightingale complain,
  Gentle sighs my lips controlling,
      Bind my soul in beauty’s chain.

Oft in slumber’s deep recesses,
      I thy mirror’d image see;
  Fancy mocks the vain caresses
      I would lavish like a bee!

But how vain is glittering sadness!
      Hark, I hear distraction’s knell!
  Torture gilds my heart with madness!
      Now forever fare thee well!

Anonymous.