AT morn, beside yon summer sea, Young Hope and Love reclined; But scarce had noon-tide come, when he Into his bark leapt smilingly, And left poor Hope behind.
I go, said Love, "to sail awhile Across this sunny main; And then so sweet his parting smile, That Hope, who never dreamt of guile, Believed he ' d come again.
She lingered there till evening's beam Along the waters lay; And o'er the sands, in thoughtful dream , Oft traced his name, which still the stream As often washed away.
|