So, when affection yields discourse, it seems The bottom is but shallow whence they come; They that are rich in words, must needs discover They are but poor in that which makes a lover. Wrong not, sweet mistress of my heart, The merit of true passion; With thinking that he feels no smart That sues for no compassion, For knowing not I sue to serve I rather choose to want relief Silence in love betrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty; A beggar that is dumb, you know, May challenge double pity. Since, if my plaints were not to ap- Then wrong not, dearest to my heart, prove The conquest of thy beauty, It comes not from defect of love, But fear to exceed my duty. My love for secret passion; He smarteth most who hides his smart And sues for no compassion. Under his spurning feet, the road Swept on, with his wild eyes full of But, lo! he is nearing his heart's desire, He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, With Sheridan only five miles away: The first that the General saw were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; What was done, what to do,glance told him both, -a And, striking his spurs with a terri- All sights were mellowed and all ble oath, He dashed down the line mid a storm of huzzas, sounds subdued, The hills seemed further and the stream sang low, And the wave of retreat checked its As in a dream the distant woodman Where sang the noisy martens of the She had known Sorrow, - he had walked with her, Oft supped, and broke the bitter ashen crust; And in the dead leaves still she heard the stir Amid all this - in this most cheerless At last the thread was snapped; her air, And where the woodbine shed upon the porch Its crimson leaves, as if the year stood there Firing the floor with his inverted torch,― The mother who conceals her grief While to her breast her son she presses, Then breathes a few brave words and brief, Kissing the patriot brow she blesses, With no one but her secret God To know the pain that weighs upon her, Sheds holy blood as e'er the sod The airs I feel Around me steal Received on Freedom's field of Are murmuring to the murmuring honor! keel. O happy ship, Her children, hid The cliffs amid, To rise and dip, Are gambolling with the gambolling With the blue crystal at your lip! The fisher's child, With tresses wild, O happy crew, My heart with you Sails, and sails, and sings anew! No more, no more The worldly shore Unto the smooth, bright sand be- Upbraids me with its loud uproar! guiled, With glowing lips Sings as she skips, Or gazes at the far-off ships. With dreamful eyes My spirit lies Under the walls of Paradise! |