Page:Poems Taggart.djvu/57

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9

Then gladly would that soul forego
The sight of bliss it ne'er can know,—
The sounds of joy that cause the throe
        Of anguish more severe;—

Would fly to some retreat where wave
The sighing leaves, and waters lave,
In pensive sounds, or rushing rave
        In varying tones and force;—

To the lone forest sigh each pain,
While through the woods a pitying strain,
Borne on the breeze in language plain
        Of consolation sweet,

Falls softly soothing on the ear,
And quells the murmurs of despair,
And bids one gleam of hope appear
        To raise and cheer the mind.




THE HEART'S DESIRE.1823.
Essay, my Heart, my aching heart,
To lisp thy longing forth;—
Speak thy intense desire to gaze
Upon the blooming earth.