What matters this?-thou lyre,

Nothing shall e'er inspire

Thy master to rehearse those songs again :

She whom he loved is gone,

And he, now left alone,

Sings, when he sings of love, in vain, in vain.

TO A CHILD.

FAIREST of Earth's creatures!

All thy innocent features

Moulded in beauty do become thee well.

Oh! may thy future years

Be free from pains, and fears,

False love, and others envy, and the guile

That lurks beneath a friendlike smile,

And all the various ills that dwell

In this so strange compounded world; and may

Thy look be like the skies of May,

Supremely soft and clear,

With, now and then, a tear

For joy, or others sorrows, not thy own.

And may thy sweet voice

Like a stream afar

Flow in perpetual music, and its tone
Be joyful and bid all who hear rejoice.

And may thy bright eye, like a star,

Shine sweet and cheer the hearts that love thee,

And take in all the beauty of the flowers,

Deep woods, and running brooks, and the rich sights

Which thou may'st note above thee

At noontide, or on interlunar nights,
Or when blue Iris, after showers,

Bends her cerulean bow, and seems to rest

On some distant mountain's breast,

Surpassing all the shapes that lie

Haunting the sun-set of an autumn sky.

WOMAN.

GONE from her cheek is the summer bloom,
And her lip has lost all its faint perfume :
And the gloss has dropped from her golden hair,
And her cheek is pale, but no longer fair.

And the spirit that sate on her soft blue eye,

Is struck with cold mortality;

And the smile that played round her lip has fled, And every charm has now left the dead.

Like slaves they obeyed her in height of power, But left her all in her wintry hour;

And the crowds that swore for her love to die,

Shrunk from the tone of her last faint sigh.
-And this is man's fidelity!

'Tis Woman alone, with a purer heart, Can see all these idols of life depart, And love the more, and smile and bless Man in his uttermost wretchedness.