Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1834.pdf/99

Rh

thee do not speak to me    As you are speaking now, It brings the colour to my check, The shadow to my brow.

I pray thee do not look at me, I cannot bear that gaze; Though downcast be my eye, it still Too much my heart betrays.

I feel the past is written there, The past, long since gone by— The past, where feelings, fancies, hopes, Alike unburied lie;

Unburied, for their restless ghosts Still haunt the sad domain, And, mockeries of their former selves, Come thronging back again.