Page:Poems by Frances Fuller Victor.djvu/34

 No more within thy vales,

Beside thy plashing wells,

Where sweet Euterpe dwells

With songs of nightingales,

And sounds of flutes that make pale Silence glow,

Shall I their rapture know.

Farewell, ye stately palms

Clashing your cymbal tones

In thro' the mystic moans

Of pines at solemn psalms;

Ye myrtles, singing Love's inspired song,

We part, and part for long.

Farewell, majestic peaks

Whereon my listering soul

Hath trembled to the roll

Of thunders that Jove wreaks—

And calm Minerva's oracles hath heard

All more than now unstirred.

Adieu, ye beds of bloom;

No more shall zephyr bring

To me, upon its wing,

Your loveliest perfume;

No more upon your pure, immortal dyes,

Shall rest my happy eyes.

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