Though the broad ocean billow is flowing,
Between the green turfs which we tread ;
Though above me the summer is glowing.
While around you the winter is spread.
...
They knew not she was dying.
For yet she seem'd to smile.
While the flatterer was trying
Her sadness to beguile,
...
I prized the virgin smile.
Her dimpled cheek adorning,
My heart it charm'd awhile,
'Twas like the smile of morning.
...
I, like the little mounting lark
Would sing from dawning day to dark ;
When first Aurora faintly gleams,
And flings around her rosy beams,
...
I am dying—I am dying—
With youth's bloom upon my cheek.
And my spirit is departing.
Its unknown home to seek.
...
When in reply thy own harp speaks,
To the soft touch thy fingers give.
The thrilling note that touch awakes,
Will ever in my memory live—
...
Thou fairest of earth's daughters,
Born in the twilight glade,
Where the gently murmuring waters
Make music through the shade ;
...
While through these trackless wastes I'm strayhig
Lost in a train of bitter thought—
Scenes of my lost days round me playing,
To my lorn mind are freshly brought
...
Peace to our native British isle !
The arts of peace though we pursue
Our father's conquered at the Nile,
Our brethren bled at Waterloo.
...
Maid of Cambria do not blame
I'he look of love thou see'st in me ;
Nor turn away thine eyes of flame,
As if I err'd to look on thee.
...