Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/233

 mSCZLLAN.OUS. POEUS. Once, gaily mingling with your flight, I met you on the mouutain's brow: How different is the stern delight, Which aches along my bosom now: �Child of Despair--by Anguish nurst, Because I know, and bear the worst ! I revel iu your fierce unrest, I send my soul among yon clouds, ' Which ye are driving o'er the west, Where the low sun his radiance shrouds, And there strange visions wildly shape-- Yet would not from myself escape. [ will not stOOp to.self-deceit, Nor back from lonely moments shrink Nor thought nor memory, strive to cheat; As if I did not dare to think; Tho' lost, I would be all my own-- Tho' wretched, [ would be alone. I will not fly, like meaner minds, From all I am, to crowds and mirth; Streams, rocks, and wilds, and you, ye wimis, Shall give my loftier pleasures birth, And Nature, in past hours, my bliss, � Shall be my comforter in this. 213. ......... Google

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