POEMS. I. Written in an Album. 1. As o'er the cold sepulchral stone Some name arrests the passer-by; Thus when thou view'st this page alone May mine attract thy pensive eye! 2. And when by thee that name is read, Reflect on me as on the dead, And think my heart is buried here. To II. September 14th, 1809. OH Lady! when I left the shore, The distant shore, which gave me birth, I hardly thought to grieve once more, Yet here amidst this barren isle, Where panting Nature droops the head, Where only thou art seen to smile, I view my parting hour with dread. |