Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing!
Press'd, with a blessing, his hand down on my curly-lock'd head,While my mother carefully reach'd me a newly-made bundle,
MOTHER AND SON.
THIS box, mine own sweet darling, thou wilt find
But you still delay'd, good cautious neighbour, and spoke thusFriend, I will gladly entrust to you soul, and spirit, and mind too,But my body and bones are not preserved in the best wayWhen the hand of a parson such worldly matters as reins grasps!"
Yonder seeking, finding yonderThat which in the morning-groveShe had lost through roguish Love,All her breast's first aspirations,And her heart's calm meditations,To the shady wood so fair
Woe! what form is here reveal'd!
I FEEL that I'm possess'd of nought,Saving the free unfetterd thought
I do not now begin,--I still adore
With shame took to flight.Is't hope? Do I wander?Ye rocks and trees yonder,
What oppresseth thee so sore?What strange life is o'er me stealing!
Whence pent-up waters steal,And leaving the abyss,
As warmly thank ye Heaven!"
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