Here 'twas at eve, near yonder tree reposing,
One still too dear, first breath'd his vows to thee:
Wear this, he cried, his guileful love disclosing,
Near to thy heart, in memory of me.
Love's cherished gift, the rose he gave, is faded;
Love's blighted flower, can never bloom again.
Weep for thy fault—in heart—in mind degraded:
Weep, if thy tears can wash away the stain.
Call back the vows, that once to heaven were plighted,
Vows full of love, of innocence and truth.
Call back the scenes in which thy soul delighted:
Call back the dream that blest thy early youth.
Flow silver stream, tho' threatening tempests lower,
Bright, mild and clear, thy gentle waters flow;
Round thy green banks, the spring's young blossoms flower;
O'er thy soft waves the balmy zephyrs blow.
—Yet, all in vain; for never spring arraying
Nature in charms, to thee can make it fair.
Ill fated love, clouds all thy path, pourtraying
Years past of bliss, and future of despair.
Gondimar seemed affected whilst he sung; and Calantha felt nearly suffocated with every sort of feeling. Lady Augusta
