When the lamp is shatter'd, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter'd, The rainbow's glory is shed; When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remember'd not When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute-- No song but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruin'd cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. When hearts have once mingled, Love first leaves the well-built nest; The ...

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Unfelt unheard, unseen, I've left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who---who could tell how much There is for madness---cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist!---they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into my fancy's ear Melting a burden dear, How "Love doth know no fulness, nor no bounds." True!---tender monitors! I bend unto your laws: This sweetest day for dalliance was born! So, without more ado, I'll feel my heaven anew, For all the blushing of the hasty morn. ...

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