'twas my purpose, on a day,

To embark, and sail away;

As I climb'd the vessel's side,

Love was sporting in the tide;

"Come," he said,—" ascend—make haste,

Launch into the boundless waste."

Many mariners were there,
Having each his separate care;
They that row'd us held their eyes
Fix'd upon the starry skies;
Others steer'd, or turn'd the sails
To receive the shifting gales.

Love, with power divine supplied,
Suddenly my courage tried;
In a moment it was night,
Ship and skies were out of sight;
On the briny wave I lay,
Floating rushes all my stay.

Did I with resentment burn
At this unexpected turn?

Did I wish myself on shore,
Never to forsake it more?
No—" My soul," I cried "be still;
If I must be lost, I will."

Next he hasten'd to convey
Both my frail supports away;
Seized my rushes; bade the waves
Yawn into a thousand graves:
Down I went, and sunk as lead,
Ocean closing o'er my head.

Still, however, life was safe;
And I saw him turn and laugh:
"Friend," he cried, "adieu! lie low,
While the wintry storms shall blow;
When the spring has calm'd the main,
You shall rise and float again."

Soon I saw him, with dismay,
Spread his plumes, and soar away;
Now I mark his rapid flight;
Now he leaves my aching sight;
He is gone whom I adore,
Tis in vain to seek him more.

How I trembled then and fear'd,
When my love had disappear'd!
"Wilt thou leave me thus," I cried,
"Whelm'd beneath the rolling tide?"
Vain attempt to reach his ear!
Love was gone, and would not hear.

Ah! return, and love me still;

See me subject to thy will;

Frown with wrath, or smile with grace,

Only let me see thy face!

Evil I have none to fear,

All is good, if thou art near.

Yet he leaves me—cruel fate i
Leaves me in my lost estate—
Have I sinn'd? Oh, say wherein;
Tell me; and forgive my sin;
King, and Lord, whom I adore,
Shall I see thy face no more?

But not angry; I resign,

Henceforth, all my will to thine:

I consent that thou depart,

Though thine absence breaks my heart;

Go, then, and for ever too;

All is right that thou wilt do.

This was just what Love intended,
He was now no more offended;
Soon as I became a child,
Love return'd to me and smiled:
Never strife shall more betide
'Twixt the bridegroom and his bride.


There's not an echo round me, But I am glad should learn,
How pure a fire has found me—

The love with which I burn.
For none attends with pleasure To what I would reveal;
They slight me out of measure, And laugh at all I feel.

The rocks receive less proudly

The story of my flame;
When I approach, they loudly

Reverberate his name.
I speak to them of sadness,

And comforts at a stand;
They bid me look for gladness,

And better days at hand.

Far from all habitation,

I heard a happy sound;
Big with the consolation,

That I have often found;
I said "My lot is sorrow,

My grief has no alloy;"
The rocks replied—" To-morrow,

To-morrow brings thee joy."

These sweet and secret tidings,

What bliss it is to hear! For, spite of all my chidings,

My weakness, and my fear, No sooner I receive them,

Than I forget my pain, And, happy to believe them,

I love as much again.

I fly to scenes romantic,

Where never men resort; For in an age so frantic

Impiety is sport. For riot and confusion

They barter things above; Condemning, as delusion,

The joy of perfect love.

In this sequester'd corner,

None hears what I express; Deliver'd from the scorner,

What peace do I possess! Beneath the boughs reclining

Or roving o'er the wild, I live as undesigning

And harmless as a child.

No troubles here surprise me,

I innocently play, While Providence supplies me,

And guards me all the day:

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