THE POETICAL SKETCH-BOOK. FLORANTHE. Had we never loved so kindly, We had ne'er been broken-hearted! BURNS. Dost thou recall it? 'twas a glorious eve! B As, then, they looked, to listen to our vows! The night she sought her shepherd, on the hill, To look for him who comes not ;-unlike thee, Oh, fair Floranthe!-save that both are sad, And widowed, now,-the false one and the true! And thou, bright dreamer! thou to whom the stars One dream of love and loveliness and light! Thou, to whose soul a brighter thought was given Than his for whom Egeria sat, alone, By the cool gushing fount!-Endymion! Oh! not for thee-no, not for thee alone Have been such visitings!-Floranthe, hear! (But weep not!) thou dost know how many years, How long and well my soul has worshipped thee, mind made itself a solitude Till my For only thee to dwell in,—and thou wert We will not speak of that !-but oh! that eve, Perhaps, we loved too well;-the burning thoughts |