Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1838.pdf/95

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But I would dwell beside the sea, And of the scattered shells Ask, when they murmur mournfully, What sorrow in the past may be, Of which their music tells.

Winds, waves, and breathing shells are sad— Methinks I should repine, If their low tones were only glad, ‘Twould seem too much as if they had No sympathy for mine.

Not long such fancies can beguile Dreams of what cannot be; Gone is thy visionary smile, And thou art but a distant isle Upon a distant sea.