SEPARATION.
You've watch'd the lessening sail
That bore the friend away,
Till but a misty speck it seem'd
Upon the billowy bay;
The grating wheels you've mark'd
In their receding flight,
Like victors vaunting, as they took
Your treasure from your sight.
A sever'd tress you've hid
Next to your bosom's core,
A plant, the parting token, nursed
Till all its bloom was o'er;
Amid your choicest page
Some wither'd flow'ret prest,
That erst a prouder place maintain'd
Upon the dear one's breast.
You o'er the pencill'd brow
In solitude have hung,
And to the voiceless picture talk'd
With love's impassion'd tongue;
You've sought the favourite walk,
Green dell, or sea-girt shore,
And felt how deep the shade had fallen
On all that charm'd before:
