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XIV.

A COMPLAINT.

THERE is a change- and I am poor;
Your Love hath been, nor long ago,
A Fountain at my fond Heart's door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.

What happy moments did I count !
Bless'd was I then all bliss above!
Now, for this consecrated Fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,
What have I? shall I dare to tell?
A comfortless and hidden WELL.

A Well of love—it may be deep —
I trust it is,—and never dry:
What matter? if the Waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.

Such change, and at the very door Of my fond Heart, hath made me poor.

XV.

RUTH.

WHEN Ruth was left half desolate

Her Father took another Mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
A slighted Child, at her own will
Went wandering over dale and hill,
In thoughtless freedom bold.

And she had made a Pipe of straw,
And from that oaten Pipe could draw
All sounds of winds and floods;

Had built a Bower upon the green,
As if she from her birth had been
An Infant of the woods.

Beneath her Father's roof, alone

She seemed to live; her thoughts her own;

Herself her own delight:

Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay,

She passed her time; and in this way

Grew up to Woman's height.

There came a Youth from Georgia's shore

A military Casque he wore

With splendid feathers drest;

He brought them from the Cherokees;

The feathers nodded in the breeze,

And made a gallant crest.

From Indian blood you deem him sprung:
Ah no! he spake the English tongue,
And bore a Soldier's name;

And, when America was free
From battle and from jeopardy,

He 'cross the ocean came.

With hues of genius on his cheek

In finest tones the Youth could speak.

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While he was yet a Boy,

The moon, the glory of the sun,

And streams that murmur as they run,

Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess

The panther in the wilderness

Was not so fair as he;

And, when he chose to sport and play,

No dolphin ever was so gay

Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought;
And with him many tales he brought
Of pleasure and of fear;

Such tales as, told to any Maid

By such a Youth, in the green shade,
Were perilous to hear.

He told of Girls, a happy rout!

Who quit their fold with dance and shout,

Their pleasant Indian Town,

To gather strawberries all day long;
Returning with a choral song
When day-light is gone down.

He spake of plants divine and strange
That every hour their blossoms change,
Ten thousand lovely hues !

With budding, fading, faded flowers
They stand the wonder of the bowers
From morn to evening dews.

He told of the Magnolia*, spread
High as a cloud, high over head!
The Cypress and her spire,

- Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam
Cover a hundred leagues, and seem

To set the hills on fire.

The Youth of green savannahs spake,
And many an endless, endless lake,
With all its fairy crowds

Of islands, that together lie

As quietly as spots of sky

Among the evening clouds.

And then he said "How sweet it were

A fisher or a hunter there,

A gardener in the shade,

Still wandering with an easy mind

To build a household fire, and find

A home in every glade!

* Magnolia grandiflora.

The splendid appearance of these scarlet flowers, which are scattered with such profusion over the Hills in the Southern parts of North America, is frequently mentioned by Bartram in his Travels.

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