Letitia Elizabeth Landon

“ For when the young rose of her cheek grew pale,
And health was departed, she loved thy wail;
And I have heard thy murmurs sweep
O'er the flowers that smile round her last cold sleep.
And thou recallest a dark-eyed maid,
With forehead of snow and raven braid,
The light of my love-dream,—one who oft
Would answer in song to thy breathing soft;
One who could love, and her love forget—
O waken not, lute, that wild regret!
Better thou ever shouldst silent be,
Than renew such memories of sadness to me. ”

“ Forbidden and concealed. Ask thine own heart;
It will proclaim their falsehood. Ask that heart
Which I most truly do believe is mine,
If it could injure me.
Ronald.— Dear Ellen, no;
It cannot be that I who love thee, thus
Could harm thee, love: the turf, on which thy step
Has left its fairy trace, is unto me
A sainted spot; the very air thou breathest
Is precious; more I prize the slightest leaf
Wreath’d with thy sunny hair, than the rich gems
That burn in Indian mines. It cannot be
That I could harm thee!
Ellen.— Oh, I do not fear.
Come, pray thee, smile at thine own prophecy. ”

“ Thy step is on a precipice; that I
Shall lead thee to the brink—and lead to perish.
Ellen.—This of thyself, false prophet! Ronald, no;
Oh, I will not believe thee. Come, be gay:
You’re a dull lover for a lady’s bower.
You do not love me.
Ronald.—Not love thee! By that cheek
Now beautiful with blushes—by those eyes,
Like a blue harebell, when a sunshine plays
Upon its dewy leaves—by that white brow
Crown’d with gold curls, and by that eloquent smile—
I love thee tenderly as exiles love
Remembrance of their own country; dear
As home, as infancy, as happiness ”