Eliza Acton

I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
...

MANY a graven gem, beset
With gold, is worn as an amulet
In the far-off climes of the East,-a charm
To preserve the bosom from grief and harm.
...

I would not, in the wildness of revenge,
Give poison to mine enemy, nor strike
My dagger to his heart, but I would plant
...

Think of me, dearest! when the Western star
Sheds o'er the soft blue heav'n its lovely light;
For know, that I, though near thee, or afar,
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Yes, thou art like the blasting breath,
Of that wild desert wind,
Which leaves, in its career of death,
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A shadow, dark as death, o'er shrouds the beams
Of my pale birth-star !-it so long hath hung
Between the light of happiness, and me,
...

I know how vain it is to mourn
O'er blighted hopes, and friendship fled;
How yet more vain it is, to turn
With sorrow to the slumb'ring dead.
...

Oh! I am weary of a world, where vice,
Like the destroying canker-worm, doth wind
Into the bosom's core of those who bear,
...

Where art thou Love! with thine eyes wild gleam,
And thy hair which floats in the sun's bright beam,
Like a golden banner of triumph, spread
...

They said, the words I lov'd to hear
Were whisper'd in another's ear,
With that sweet smile, and tender tone,
...

Come to my grave when I am gone,
And bend a moment there alone;
It will not cost thee much of pain
...

Forgive thee!-yes-when ev'ry cord
Which binds my soul to earth, is broken;
When scarce I hear the whisper'd word,
...

Oh sooner shall yon star decline,
Which guides the wand'ring seaman's way,
Than thou shalt from the inmost shrine
...

Amidst the first young flow'rs of spring,
Which o'er this still, and lonely spot,
A gleam of grace and beauty fling,
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Like blighted leaves, around us fall
The young, the gifted, and the brave;
And still the most belov'd of all
Seem earliest fated to the grave.
...

Yes leave me !-I can bear it now,
For e'en while those wild words are spoken,
See I am calm, as though thy vow
...

'TIS come!--the last pale ev'ning-close
Whose shade shall sink around me here;
And unto me its deep repose,
Brings many a wildly-gushing tear.
...

The second, with a brow serenely calm,
And eye of inspiration, is the child,
The favour'd child of Song, and o'er his lyre
...

There be sweet wreaths upon the brow of spring,
Thornless, as those which bloom in Paradise,
And fresh as Love's first feelings,-bright, as are
...

How sacred is the lightest thing
Which wakes a thought of thee !-
The wild-flow'r's lonely blossoming;
The young spring-zephyr's laden wing,
...