If so, it never shall be mine
To mourn the loss of such a heart;
The fault was Nature's fault, not thine,
Which made thee fickle as thou art.
As rolls the Ocean's changing tide,
So human feelings ebb and flow;
And who would in a breast confide
Where stormy passions ever glow?
- And yet like me.—[MS. L.]
- Forget they ever.—[MS. L, Imit. and Transl., p. 185.]
- So short.—[MS. L.]
... a day
Will send my friendship back again.—[MS. L.]