IV.

There bloom'd beside thee forms as fair, There murmur'd tones as sweet, But round thee breathed the enchanted air 'Twas life and death to meet. And henceforth thou alone wert fair, And though the stars had sung for joy, Thy whisper only sweet!

LOVE'S SUDDEN GROWTH.

But yestermorn, with many a flower The garden of my heart was dress'd; A single tree has sprung to bloom, Whose branches cast a tender gloom, That shadows all the rest.

A jealous and a tyrant tree, That seeks to reign alone; As if the wind's melodious sighs, The dews and sunshine of the skies, Were only made for One!

A tree on which the Host of Dreams Low murmur mystic things, While hopes, those birds of other skies, To dreams themselves chant low replies-- Ah, wherefore have they wings?

The seasons nurse the blight and storm, The glory leaves the air-- The dreams and birds will pass away, The blossom wither from the spray-- One day--the stem be bare--