VI. Thus come, delightful and delusive Sleep, Thus o'er my wither'd spirits claim thy pow'r; In thy sweet balm each anguish'd feeling steep; For days of suff'ring give one blissful hour. THE NOSEGAY. FRAGMENT XXVII. To him who flung in at my window a bunch of Myrtle Blossoms and Two Faces under a Hood, after a little fracas. I SAW the flow'rs! and guess'd for me And quite forgot the pouting fray That gloom'd our cold adieus to-day, Till as I closer, fonder, hung O'er every bud, a sad doubt sprung Within my heart, and chill'd their bloom, And robb'd them of their rich perfume: For oh! thy gift appear'd methought For one sweet blossom placed in view Seem'd each delighted sense to woo, Yet close beneath the fragrant veil Why didst thou send me this bouquet? "These flowers, delusive girl, receive, Like thee they charm, like thee deceive; Alternate emblem of thy wile, Thy obvious grace, thy hidden guile—” And is it so? then keep thy flow'r! And trust me, 'tis no dewy show'r Shed from nature's genial eye That glitters o'er its purple dye, But a tear, a tear that stole From a fond but wounded soul, The essence of a pang severe, By thee extracted, form'd that tear; Yet still 'tis thine, the chemic pow'r, To change that tear, to change the flow'r: Transmuted to a gem the tear (Joy's precious gem!) the flow'r shall wear, The flow'r that robb'd my heart of rest Shall bloom an "heart's ease" in my breast, |