Is it that in some brighter sphere
We part from friends we meet with
Or do we see the Future pass
Over the Present’s dusky glass?
Or what is that that makes us seem

Come Harriet! sweet is the hour,
Soft Zephyrs breathe gently aroun
The anemone’s night-boding flower,
Has sunk its pale head on the grou
'Tis thus the world’s keenness hat

Many a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
Or the mariner, worn and wan,
Never thus could voyage on
Day and night, and night and day,

Stern, stern is the voice of fate’
When accents of horror it breathes
Or compels us for aye bid adieu to
Where exists that loved friend to
’Tis sterner than death o’er the s

To Mary '— '—
So now my summer task is ended, M
And I return to thee, mine own he
As to his Queen some victor Knigh
Earning bright spoils for her inch

Is it the Eternal Triune, is it
Who dares arrest the wheels of des
And plunge me in the lowest Hell
Will not the lightning’s blast des
Will not steel drink the blood-lif

Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day

Heigho! the lark and the owl!
One flies the morning, and one lul
Only the nightingale, poor fond so
Sings like the fool through darkne
‘A widow bird sate mourning for he

He wanders, like a day-appearing d
Through the dim wildernesses of th
Through desert woods and tracts, w
Like ocean, homeless, boundless, u

I loved’—alas! our life is love;
But when we cease to breathe and m
I do suppose love ceases too.
I thought, but not as now I do,
Keen thoughts and bright of linked