Dark spirits of yon woods declare,
Where I in anguish wander wild,
The victim of a dark despair.

"Thank Heaven, I leave no son my heir,
Who might another Olive see,
And think her as his mother fair--
Fair, but yet a mystery--
With heart so like some alcove deep,
Where nightingales may sing their song,
And roses blow, and--serpents creep,
To sting him as I have been stung.

"The secrets of the living rock,
Deep hid from man's divining rod,
A spark may open, and the shock
Bring forth an ingot or a toad:
The secret that is kept for years,
One stroke of fate yields to the sight;
And if the toad a jewel wears,
That jewel may have lost its light.

"Begone ye hopes of tender ties,
Of smiling home with wife and child,
Of all love's tender sympathies,
That once a rugged soul beguiled!
In vain may Beauty deck her crown,
And winning Goodness try her plan,
I trust no more--the guile of ONE
Hath changed me to a savage man.