DARK clouds are shading
The day,+the day;
Sunlight is fading
Away,+away;
I’ve won from the warden
The key, the key,
And the steed's in the garden
For me, for me.

II.

Locks of my mother,
So white, so white,
Frowns of my father,
Good night, good night!
From turret and tower
I'm free, I'm free,
And your rage has no power
O'er me, o'er me.

III.
Shriller is grieving
The blast,--the blast;
Lo, the waves heaving
At last,--at last!

'Twas here he, the bold one,
Should be, should be;

And lingers he, cold one
Ah, Imel—ah, me !

IV.
Wain is thy chiding,
For hark 1–for hark |
Hither 'tis gliding,
The bark!—the bark!
Joyously over
The sea, the sea,
She’ll waft my brave lover
With me, with me!

(APRIL, 1882.)

LONG AGO,

I. WE were children together Oh, brighter than mine Are the eyes that are looking their love on you now ; And nobler than I are the maidens that twine The scarf for your breast, and the wreath for your brow.

Be happy, my brother, wherever you will; Good speed to your courser, good luck to your bow ; But will you not—will you not think of me still, As you thought of me once,—long ago—long ago 8

II. We were children together I know you will

dream Of the rock and the valley, the cottage and tree; Of the bird on the brake, of the boat on the stream,

Of the book and the lute, of my roses and me; When Pleasure deceives you, and young Hope

departs, And the pulse of Ambition beats weary and low, My brother—my brother—come back to our hearts:

Let us be what we were, long ago——long ago!

(August, 1832.)

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER.

I.

I REMEMBER—I remember
How my childhood fleeted by,
The mirth of its December,
And the warmth of its July ;
On my brow, love—on my brow, love,
There are no signs of care;
But my pleasures are not now, love,
What Childhood's pleasures were.

II.

Then the bowers—then the bowers
Were blithe as blithe could be ;
And all their radiant flowers
Were coronals for me :
Gems to-night, love——gems to-night, love,
Are gleaming in my hair;
But they are not half so bright, love,
As Childhood's roses were.

III.
I was singing—I was singing,
And my songs were idle words;
But from my heart was springing
Wild music like a bird's :

Now I sing, love—now I sing, love,
A fine Italian air;

But it's not so glad a thing, love,
As Childhood’s ballads were !

IV.

I was merry—I was merry
When my little lovers came,
With a lily, or a cherry,
Or a new-invented game :
Now I’ve you, love—now I’ve you, love,
To kneel before me there ;
But you know you’re not so true, love,
As Childhood’s lovers were !

SHADOWs of sadness
Come o'er thy young bride;
They cloud all her gladness,
They calm all her pride;
A bright home I leave, love;
From dear friends I fly;
In bliss I must grieve, love;
In bliss let me sighl