Fain thro' my native solitudes I'd roam
Bathe my rude harp in my bright native streams
Twine it with flowers that bloom
But for the deserts gloom,
Or, for the long and jetty hair that gleams
O'er the dark-bosomed maid that makes the wild her home. [FN#5]


[FN#5] This invocation when composed was intended to precede a
series of poems entitled Occidental Eclogues; which work the writer
has never found opportunity to finish.


I sing not for the crowd, or low or high--
A pensive wanderer on life's thorny heath
Earth's pageants for my view
Have nought: I love but few,
And few who chance to hear thy trembling breath,
My lyre, for her who wakes thee, have a sigh. [FN#6]


[FN#6] It may not be improper to observe that these stanzas were
composed during a period of misfortune and dejection.


Forsake me not! none ever loved thee more!
Fair queen, I'll meet woe's fearfulest frown--and smile;
If mid the scene severe
Thou'lt drop on me one tear,
And let thy flitting form sometimes beguile