Page:Forget Me Not 1824.pdf/3

2 But he said that no air brought health, or balm, Like that on his own hills, when it had swept O'er orchards in their bloom, or hedges, where Blossomed the hawthorn and the honeysuckle; That, but one voyage more, and he would come To his dear Ellen and her cottage home— Dwell there in love and peace. And then he kissed Her tears away, talked of the pleasant years Which they should pass together—of the pride He would take in his constancy. Oh, hope Is very eloquent! and as the hours Pass’d by their ﬁreside in calm cheerfulness, Ellen forgot to weep. At length the time Of parting came; ’twas the first month of Spring. Like a green fan spread the horse-chesnut’s leaves, A shower of yellow bloom was on the elm, The daisies shone like silver, and the boughs Were covered with their blossoms, and the sky Was like an augury of hope, so clear, So beautifully blue. Love! oh young love! Why hast thou not security? Thou art Like a bright river, on whose course the weeds Are thick and heavy; briers are on its banks, And jagged stones and rocks are mid its waves. Conscious of its own beauty, it will rush Over its many obstacles, and pant For some green valley, as its quiet home. Alas! either it rushes with a desperate leap Over its barriers, foaming passionate, But prisoned still; or winding languidly, Becomes dark, like oblivion, or else wastes Itself away—This is love‘s history.

They parted one spring evening; the green sea Had scarce a curl upon its wave; the ship