VIII. STRANGE fits of passion I have known: And I will dare to tell, But in the Lover's ear alone, What once to me befel. When she I loved was strong and gay, And like a rose in June, I to her cottage bent my way, Upon the Moon I fixed my eye, All over the wide lea; My Horse trudged on and we drew nigh Those paths so dear to me. And now we reached the orchard plot; And as we climbed the hill, Towards the roof of Lucy's cot The Moon descended still. In one of those sweet dreams I slept, And all the while my eyes I kept On the descending Moon. My Horse moved on; hoof after hoof At once, the bright Moon dropped. What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a Lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, IX. SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways A Maid whom there were none to praise, She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her Grave, and, oh, The difference to me! X. I TRAVELLED among unknown Men, 'Tis past, that melancholy dream! A second time; for still I seem Among thy mountains did I feel The joy of my desire; And She I cherished turned her wheel Beside an English fire. Thy mornings shewed, thy nights concealed The bowers where Lucy played;, And thine is too the last green field XI. ERE with cold beads of midnight dew Had mingled tears of thine, I grieved, fond Youth! that thou shouldst sue To haughty Geraldine. Immoveable by generous sighs, Who drag, beneath our native skies, An Oriental Chain. Pine not like them with arms across, Forgetting in thy care How the fast-rooted trees can toss Their branches in mid air. The humblest Rivulet will take Its own wild liberties; And, every day, the imprisoned Lake Then, crouch no more on suppliant knee, But scorn with scorn outbrave; A Britain, even in love, should be A subject, not a slave ! |