Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1823.pdf/29

28 Literary Gazette, 1st March 1823, Page 139

Conclusion. All, all forgotten! Oh, false Love! I had not deemed that this could be, That heart and lute, so truly thine, Could both be broken, and by thee.

I did not dream, when I have loved To dwell on Sorrow's saddest tone, That its reality would soon Be but the echo of mine own.

Farewell! I give thee back each vow, Vows are but vain when love is dead; What boot the trammels, when the bird They should have kept so safe, is fled?

But go! be happy and be free, My heart is far too warm for thine; Go! and 'mid Pleasure's lights and smiles, Heed not what tears and clouds are mine.

But I,—oh, how can I forget What has been more than life to me! Oh wherefore, wherefore was I taught So much of passion's misery!

Thy name is breathed on every song— How can I bid those songs depart? The thoughts I've treasur'd up of thee Are more than life-blood to my heart.

But I may yet learn to forget; I am too proud for passion's chain; I yet may learn to wake my lute— But never at Love's call again.

I will be proud for you to hear Of glory brightening on my name; Oh vain, oh worse than vanity! Love, love is all a woman's fame.

Then deepest silence to the chords Which only wakened for thy sake; When love has left both heart and harp, Ah what can either do but break!—L. E. L.