I declare I nearly weep over these lines; for, though they are only
Bayly's sentiment hastily recast in a modern manner, there is
something so very affecting, mouldy, and unwholesome about them,
that they sound as if they had been "written up to" a sketch by a
disciple of Mr. Rossetti's.

In a mood much more manly and moral, Mr. Bayly wrote another poem to
the young lady:


"May thy lot in life be happy, undisturbed by thoughts of me,
The God who shelters innocence thy guard and guide will be.
Thy heart will lose the chilling sense of hopeless love at last,
And the sunshine of the future chase the shadows of the past."


It is as easy as prose to sing in this manner. For example:


"In fact, we need not be concerned; 'at last' comes very soon, and
our Emilia quite forgets the memory of the moon, the moon that shone
on her and us, the woods that heard our vows, the moaning of the
waters, and the murmur of the boughs. She is happy with another,
and by her we're quite forgot; she never lets a thought of us bring
shadow on her lot; and if we meet at dinner she's too clever to
repine, and mentions us to Mr. Smith as 'An old flame of mine.' And
shall I grieve that it is thus? and would I have her weep, and lose
her healthy appetite and break her healthy sleep? Not so, she's not
poetical, though ne'er shall I forget the fairy of my fancy whom I
once thought I had met. The fairy of my fancy! It was fancy, most