Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1829.pdf/11



And if Fate have one stainless leaf, That page to thee belong: Sweet lady, only dream of grief, And let the dream be song.

I pity those who sigh for thee, I envy those who love; For loved thy nature's formed to be, As seraphs' are above. I fling thee laurel offerings, I own thy spirit's spell, I greet the music of thy strings— Sweet lady, fare thee well. L. E. L.