And passion's lewd and lawless host,
Delight to rave and revel most
Where generous Nature stamps and strews
Her fairest forms, and brightest hues:
And Discord here has lit her brand,
And Hatred nursed her savage brood,
And stern Revenge, with crimson hand,
Has written his foul deeds in blood.
But those who loved and suffered then,
Have given place to other men:
Of all who live, to me alone
The story, of their fate is known;
Give heed, and I will tell it thee,
Tho' mournful must the story be.

VI.

I mind as if 'twere yesterday,
The hour when first I stood beside
The margin of yon rushing tide,
And watched its wild waves in their play;
These locks that now are thin and gray,
Then clustered thick and dark as thine,
And few had strength of arm like mine.
Thou seest how many a furrow now
Time's hand hath ploughed athwart my brow:
Well, then it was without a line;--
And I had other treasures too,
Of which 'tis useless now to vaunt;
Friends, who were kind, and warm, and true;