Literary Gazette, 8th February 1823, Page 91
LOVE SLEEPING BENEATH A PALM-TREE.
Ah, this is ours! that gentle Love
Sleeping beneath the palm-tree's shade,
Weaving the white wings of the dove,
His bow, unbent, beside him laid.
Give me the Love that will not change,
Tho' aught and all were changed beside;
The Love that nothing can estrange,
Whate'er of weal or woe betide;
Fixed in one faith, vowed to one vow,
Thro' every chance and change of ill,
Bearing with all Love meets below
Of sorrow, yet devoted still!
It may have wings, but they must be
Of colours in all lights the same,
Like the moth's, hovering constantly,
Even to death, around one flame.
A star that shines forth night and day,
A wreath of spring and winter flowers,
Emblem true love. And I may say,
May I not, dear!—"Such love is ours“
In our our last, the title should not have been the Cadet, but the Cadets.