Letitia Elizabeth Landon

“ Love's flowers have dropp'd from off Love's chain;
Enough to say that they are gone,
And that they cannot bloom again.
I know not what the pangs may be
That hearts betray'd or slighted prove—
I speak but of the misery
That waits on fond and mutual love.
The torture of an absent hour,
When doubts mock Reason's faint control:—
’Tis fearful thinking of the power
Another holds upon our soul!
To think another has in thrall
All of life's best and dearest part—
Our hopes, affections, trusted all
To that frail bark—the human heart. ”

“ And the young warrior deem'd that he should meet
In her green temple his beloved one.
'Twas a sweet solitude, and mingled well
Present and past together; myrtle stems
Shook silver flowers from their blossom'd boughs,
And in the shelter of a cypress tree
Stood the Madonna's image, the white arms
Cross'd in the deep humility of love.
Heavenward the sweet and solemn brow was raised,
And lips, whose earthly loveliness yet seem'd
To feel for earthly misery, had prayers
Upon their parted beauty; and around
Roses swung perfume from their purple urns. ”

“ Pure as just from the ocean treasure-cave;—
They are the lover's gifts, and he is one
Of Genoa's richest nobles; and the bride,
Genoa has no loveliness like hers.
The orange buds were placed upon her breast,
Yet Isabel moved not: paused she to take
One last look on the sweet face in her mirror—
To watch the rainbow-light her coronet
Threw o'er her forehead from its many gems?
Oh, no! where is the conscious smile, the flush,
That should light lady's cheek at such a time? ”