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The life is gone, the breath has fled,
And what has been no more shall be ; The well-known form, the welcome tread, O where are they, and where is he?
THE FICKLENESS OF LOVE.
Alas!-how light a cause may move
Yet in a sunny hour fall off,
Like ships that have gone down at sea,
A something light as air-a look,
A word unkind or wrongly taken
O love, that tempests never shook,
A breath, a touch like this has shaken-
And voices lose the tone that shed
As though its waters ne'er could sever, Yet, ere it reach the plains below,
Breaks into floods that part for ever.
O you that have the charge of love,
He sits, with flowerets fettered round Loose not a tie that round him clings,
Nor ever let him use his wings;
Is found below far eastern skies,Whose wings, though radiant when at rest, Lose all their glory when he flies! Some difference of this dangerous kind,— By which, though light, the links that bind
The fondest hearts may soon be riven;
THE PAUPER'S FUNERAL.
I saw a pauper once-when I was young—
And soon his bones were laid beneath the sod.
Methought the prayer that gave him to his God
It was an autumn evening;—and the rain
Had stopped awhile-but the loud wind did shriek, And brought the deluging tempest back again.
The flag-staff on the church-yard tower did creak, Along the sky there ran a lightning vein ;—
And then the flapping raven came to seek
His home; his flight was heavy, and his wing
THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.
What hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells?
Yet more, the depths have more!-What wealth untold
Won from ten thousand royal argosies.
-Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main ! Earth claims not these again!
Yet more, the depths have more !-Thy waves have rolled Above the cities of a world gone by!
Sand hath filled up the palaces of old,
-Dash o'er them, ocean! in thy scornful play,
Yet more! the billow and the depths ha more-
Give back the lost and lovely!—those for whom
To thee the love of woman hath gone down,