To be my mate in banquet bowl, IX. But it is past;-where heroes press His brethren are the free! They come around; one hour, and light Then onward, onward to the fight, X. To-night, to-night,-when we shall meet The renegade's embrace; The canker of Rome's guilt shall be And as he lives in slavery, So shall he die in shame! (1827.) REMEMBER ME. IN Seville, when the feast was long, "Remember me in shine and shower, When summer breathes upon the flower, "Remember me beneath far skies, "Remember me! my heart will claim Remember me, though doubt and blame Linked with the record be; Remember me,-with scorn or shame,But yet, remember me!" (1827.) TO THE REV. DERWENT COLERIDGE, ON HIS MARRIAGE. WHO must the beauteous Lady be Robed in a fine and fairy dress From Fancy's richest store,A more becoming garb, I guess, Than e'er man's mistress wore! With a step that glides o'er turf and stone And a voice whose every whispered tone And a form which you might safely swear And eyes more eloquently bright And all earth's lovely things, And smiles and tears, whose grief and mirth And a calm heart, so wholly given To him whose love it wakes, That through all storms of Fate and Heaven Such must the beauteous Lady be That wins that heart of thine, And is to thy fair destiny What none may be to mine! (1827.) FROM GOETHE. UNHEEDED toils, unvalued cares, Are these thy sad harp's saddest theme, Away!-it is a weary lot To waste love's songs where love is not; Alas! to some 'tis bitterer far To love, and feel how loved they are! (JUNE 12, 1828.) STAND on a funeral mound, Far, far from all that love thee: With a barren heath around, And a cypress bower above thee: And think, while the sad wind frets, And the night in cold gloom closes, Of spring, and spring's sweet violets, Of summer, and summer's roses. II. Sleep where the thunders fly Across the tossing billow; Thy canopy the sky, And the lonely deck thy pillow; And dream, while the chill sea-foam In mockery dashes o'er thee, Of the cheerful hearth, and the quiet home, And the kiss of her that bore thee. |