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 Nor fear those watchful sentinels, 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! No tidings since it came. 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, 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, This Hermione absorbed The lustre of the land and ocean, |