ROSALIE.
113
A galling chain, whose pressure will intrude,
Fettering Mirth's step, and Pleasure's lightest mood.
Where are her thoughts thus wandering?—A spot,
Now distant far, is pictured on her mind,—
A chesnut shadowing a low white cot,
With rose and jasmine round the casement twined,
Mixed with the myrtle-tree's luxuriant blind.
Alone, (oh! should such solitude be here?)
An aged form beneath the shade reclined,
Whose eye glanced round the scene;—and then a tear
Told that she missed one in her heart enshrined!
Then came remembrances of other times,
When eve oped her rich bowers for the pale day;
When the faint distant tones of convent chimes
Were answered by the lute and vesper lay;—
