Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1838.pdf/75

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Mine may be a fate more lonely, In some sick and foreign ward, Where my weary eyes meet only Hired nurse or sullen guard. Dearest maiden, thou art weeping, Must I from those eyes remove? Hath thy heart no soft pulse sleeping Which might ripen into love?

No! I see thy brow is frozen, And thy look is cold and strange; Ah! when once the heart has chosen, Well I know it cannot change. And I know that heart has spoken That another’s it must be. Scarce I wish that pure faith broken, Though the falsehood were for me.

No: be still the guileless creature That upon my boyhood shone; Couldst thou change thy angel nature, Half my faith in heaven were gone. Still thy memory shall be cherished, Dear as it is now to me; When all gentler thoughts have perished, One shall linger yet for thee.

Farewell!—With those words I sever Every tie of youth and home; Thou, fair isle! adieu for ever! See, a boat cuts through the foam. Wind, time, tide, alike are pressing, I must hasten from the shore. One first kiss, and one last blessing— Farewell, love! we meet no more.