LINES TO MISS HINKSON.
345
Passions should have no language; deeply lettered
Upon my heart their characters have been;
They should go forth, by silence strongly fettered,
Their fire to earth, their ashes to the wind.
Upon my heart their characters have been;
They should go forth, by silence strongly fettered,
Their fire to earth, their ashes to the wind.
Their fire to earth! aye, lie ye there and smoulder!
None, none have known the heart from which ye came;
None, none shall know the thoughts that with you moulder
Fast into embers, that were once a flame.
Go, ashes, to the air! fast, fast, and scatter!
Ye covered long my spirit's brightness o'er;
Winds, take them where ye list! it does not matter;
I care not where, so they return no more!
None, none have known the heart from which ye came;
None, none shall know the thoughts that with you moulder
Fast into embers, that were once a flame.
Go, ashes, to the air! fast, fast, and scatter!
Ye covered long my spirit's brightness o'er;
Winds, take them where ye list! it does not matter;
I care not where, so they return no more!
LINES TO MISS HINKSON.
FOR AN ALBUM.
My friend, mid the gentle, the chosen, the few,
The loved and the loving, the dear ones and true,
The loved and the loving, the dear ones and true,
