'I delivered thee when bound, And, when bleeding, healed thy wound; Sought thee wandering; set thee right; Turned thy darkness into light. 'Can a woman's tender care Cease towards the child she bare? Yes, she may forgetful be, • Mine is an unchanging love, 'I hear thee speak of the better land, Thou call'st its children a happy band; Mother! O where is that radiant shore ?— Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ?Is it where the flower of the orange blows, And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs?' 'Not there, not there, my child !' 'Is it where the feathery palm trees rise, And strange bright birds, on their starry wings, Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ?- 6 Not there, not there, my child! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! Mrs Hemans. FAREWELL. Farewell if ever fondest Sprayer For other's weal availed on high, Mine will not all be lost in air, But waft thy name beyond the sky. Oh! more than tears of blood can tell, These lips are mute, these eyes are dry: I only feel-Farewell!-Farewell! THE DESERTER. By others, blest with genius' rays, Let noble acts be told, While I, content with humbler praise, Byron. The Spaniard left the hostile plain To seek his native land; Beneath the sails that swept the main, Who, as he met his country's foes Above his rank obscure arose, And graced his humble name. Yet not the early wreath of fame The lowly hut, beneath whose roof He sighed a sad adieu, Received him (time and distance proof,) To Love and Laura true : This hamlet-fair, by fortune scorned, With hand profuse by her adorned |