Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1839.pdf/5

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DARE not look upon that face, My bark is in the bay, Too much already its soft grace Has won from me delay. A few short hours, and I must gaze On those sad eyes no more, A dream will seem the pleasant days Past on this lonely shore.

I love thee not—my heart has cast Its inward life away; The many memories of the past Leave little for to-day. Thou art to me a thing apart From passion, hope, or fear; Yet ’tis a pleasure to my heart To know thou art so dear.

It shows me I have something left Of what youth used to be; The spirit is not quite bereft That dreams of one like thee. I know there is another hour, When I have left this isle, When there will be but little power In thy forgotten smile.