Page:Landon in The New Monthly 1836.pdf/6



thee, my beloved one, Another song of mine; Methinks the sweetest I have won To offer at thy shrine.

I pray thee borrow tears from sleep For young Olympia's woe; As angels pause in heaven to weep O'er grief they cannot know.

Weep for the fate which is to thee But like a troubled dream; Thou knowest not how hearts can be    Wrecked on life's faithless stream.

Ah! some are born to love and pine, And some to love and reign; Brightest—imperial rule is thine Within love's wide domain.

Thou art a queen in thy command, Whose sway is smiles and sighs; The languid wave of that white hand The sceptre's state supplies.

I see thee now in that fair room Where thou wilt read this scroll: The faint lamp scarcely breaks the gloom Which wraps the haunted whole,