20
Literary Gazette, 29th April, 1826, Pages 266-267
SONG.
Float, float, down the stream,
Wreath that bound my raven hair;
Ye shall be to me a dream
Of the things that were.
Float, float:—what, so soon
Has that red rose found a grave—
So soon that vale-lily's light
Lost beneath the wave?
Gone, gone—not a leaf
Lingers on the faithless tide;
Smooth and sunny, who would think
What those waters hide?
Gone, gone, as those flowers,
Pleasures, feelings, hopes depart—
Launch'd upon Life's treacherous stream
By the trusting heart.
L. E. L.
