TO EVA. O FAIR and stately maid, whose eyes At the same torch that lighted mine; For so I must interpret still Thy sweet dominion o'er my will, A sympathy divine. Ah! let me blameless gaze upon Features that seem at heart my own; Nor fear those watchful sentinels, Who charm the more their glance forbids, Chaste-glowing, underneath their lids, With fire that draws while it repels. THE AMULET. YOUR picture smiles as first it smiled; The ring you gave is still the same; Your letter tells, O changing child! Give me an amulet That keeps intelligence with you, — Red when you love, and rosier red, And when you love not, pale and blue. Alas! that neither bonds nor vows Can certify possession ; Torments me still the fear that love Died in its last expression. THINE EYES STILL SHINED. THINE eyes still shined for me, though far I lonely roved the land or sea: As I behold yon evening star, Which yet beholds not me. This morn I climbed the misty hill, When the redbird spread his sable wing, When the rosebud ripened to the rose, In both I read thy name. EROS. THE sense of the world is short, Long and various the report, To love and be beloved; Men and gods have not outlearned it; And, how oft soe'er they've turned it, "Tis not to be improved. HERMIONE. ON a mound an Arab lay, And sung his sweet regrets, And told his amulets: The summer bird His sorrow heard, And, when he heaved a sigh profound, 'If it be, as they said, she was not fair, But sceptred genius, aye inorbed, This Hermione absorbed The lustre of the land and ocean, |