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started from my sleep. The image still Was seen, and in the sun's uncertain light Above my couch she seemed to linger still. THE LONELY LIFE. The morning rain, when, from her coop released, The hen, exulting, flaps her wings, when from The balcony the husbandman looks forth, And when the rising sun his trembling rays Darts through the falling drops, against my roof And windows gently beating, wakens me. I rise, and grateful, bless the flying clouds, The cheerful twitter of the early birds, The smiling fields, and the refreshing air. For I of you, unhappy city walls, Enough have seen and known; where hatred still Companion is to grief; and grieving still I live, and so shall die, and that, how soon! But here some pity Nature shows, though small, Once in this spot to me so courteous! Thou, too, O Nature, turn'st away thy gaze From misery; thou, too, thy sympathy Withholding from the suffering and the sad, Dost homage pay to royal happiness. No friend in heaven, on earth, the wretched hath, No refuge, save his trusty dagger's edge. Sometimes I sit in perfect solitude, Upon a hill, that overlooks a lake, That is encircled quite with silent trees. There, when the sun his mid-day course hath reached, His tranquil face he in a mirror sees: Nor grass nor leaf is shaken by the wind; There is no ripple on the wave, no chirp Of cricket, rustling wing of bird in bush, Nor hum of butterfly; no motion, voice, Or far or near, is either seen or heard. Its shores are locked in quiet most profound; So that myself, the world I quite forget, As motionless I sit; my limbs appear To lie dissolved, of breath and sense deprived; As if, in immemorial rest, they seemed Confounded with the silent scene around. O love, O love, long since, thou from this breast Hast flown, that was so warm, so ardent, once. Misfortune in her cold and cruel grasp Has held it fast, and it to ice has turned, E'en in the flower of my youth. The time I well recall, when thou this heart didst fill; That sweet, irrevocable time it was, When this unhappy scene of life unto The ardent gaze of youth reveals itself, Expands, and wears the smile of Paradise. How throbs the heart within the boyish breast, By virgin hope and fond desire impelled! The wretched dupe for life's hard work prepares, As if it were a dance, or merry game. But when
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