Where he abides, as in a Prisoner's cell, When he could creep about, at will, though poot There, at the root of one particular tree, Dear intercourse was theirs, day after day; What signs of mutual gladness when they met ! Think of their common peace, their simple play, The parting moment and its fond regret. Months passed in love that failed not to fulfil, Thus in the chosen spot a tie so strong Wife, children, kindred, they were dead and gone; But, if no evil hap his wishes crossed, One living Stay was left, and on that one O that the good old Man had power to prove, By message sent through air or visible token, That still he loves the Bird, and still must love; That friendship lasts though fellowship is broken! 1846. VIII. SONNET. (TO AN OCTOGENARIAN.) AFFECTIONS lose their object; Time brings forth No successors; and, lodged in memory, If love exist no longer, it must die, Wanting accustomed food, must pass from earth, To thousands, share not thou; howe'er bereft, One to whom Heaven assigns that mournful part Still shall be left some corner of the heart 1846 IX. FLOATING ISLAND These lines are by the Author of the Address to the Wind, c., published heretofore along with my Poems. Those to ɛ Redbreast are by a deceased female Relative. HARMONIOUS Powers with Nature work Once did I see a slip of earth (By throbbing waves long undermined) Loosed from its hold; how, no one knew, But all might see it float, obedient to the wind; Might see it, from the mossy shore Dissevered, float upon the Lake, Float with its crest of trees adorned On which the warbling birds their pastime take Food. shelter, safety, there they find; And thus through many seasons' space Perchance when you are wandering forth Upon some vacant sunny day, Without an object, hope, or fear, Thither your eyes may turn, the Isle is passed away; Buried beneath the glittering Lake, D. W. X. How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high A brightening edge will indicate that soon XI. "Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, Percy's Reliques ONCE I could hail (howe'er serene the sky) No faculty yet given me to espy The dusky Shape within her arms imbound, Which some have named her Predecessor's ghost. Young, like the Crescent that above me shone, I saw (ambition quickening at the view) Or was it Dian's self that seemed to move And when I learned to mark the spectral Shape |