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Lord Houghton. CI.
I stand by the river where both of us stood,
One forlorn since that day.
The flowers of the margin are many to see;
As thy vow did that day.
I stand by the river-I think of that vow-
And my lover that day?
Go, be sure of my love-by that treason forgiven;
Go,-be clear of that day!
I stand where I last stood with thee!
Sorrow, O sorrow!
Sorrow, O sorrow!
Have they a morrow ?-
The one and the other, a sea ;-
A gleam on the years that shall be !
Sir E. Bulwer Lytton.
Her last words at parting, how can I forget ?
Deep treasured thro' life, in my heart they shall stay; Like music whose charm in the soul lingers yet,
When its sounds from the ear have long melted away. Let Fortune assail me, her threat'nings are vain;
Those still-breathing words shall my talisman be“ Remember, in absence, in sorrow and pain,
There's one heart unchanging, that beats but for thee.”
From the desert's sweet well tho' the pilgrim must hie,
Never more of that fresh-springing fountain to taste, He hath still of its bright drops a treasured supply,
Whose sweetness lends life to his lips thro' the waste. So, dark as my fate is still doomed to remain,
These words shall my well in the wilderness be“ Remember, in absence, in sorrow and pain,
There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee."
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
For other's weal availed on high, Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky. 'Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh :
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell, When rung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word-Farewell !-Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the
Tho' grief and passion there rebel : I only know we loved in vain
I only feel-Farewell !-Farewell.