An oak-wreath, verdant and sublime,
Placed on his brow in after-time;
While they are banished to the slough,
Who their great master disavow.
THE FRIENDLY MEETING.
In spreading mantle to my chin concealed,
I trod the rocky path so steep and gray,
Then to the wintry plain I bent my way
Uneasily, to flight my bosom steeled.
But sudden was the new-born day revealed.
A maiden came, in heavenly bright array,
Like the fair creatures of the poet's lay
In realms of song. My yearning heart was healed!
Yet turned I thence, till she had onward passed,
While closer still the folds to draw I tried,
As though with heat self-kindled to grow warm;
But followed her. She stood. The die was cast!
No more within my mantle could I hide;
I threw it off,—she lay within mine arm.
IN A WORD.
Thus to be chained for ever, can I bear?
A very torment that, in truth, would be.
This very day my new resolve shall see,—
