Metrical tales, and other poems; - Electric Scotland

JOSEPHINE. 31
Let me rather strive to pass
From those memories of yore.
Yet it seems to be my doom
To be urged as by a spell,
Like the mariner of whom
Your own Island's bard doth tell, *
To procure a brief repose,
"When the spirit brings me here,
By the pouring of my woes
Lito some lone stranger's ear.'
How I glory in it now.
That, despite my House's pride,
I was true to every vow.
And made Josephine my bride
For the brightest spot that shows
In the widely-chequered scene
Of a life that nears its close
Is my cottage home at Guines
There the winged moments sped
As I never knew them flee.
There the gifts of joy were spread
With a bounteous hand for me
;
There were smiles for ever dear.
Looks of deep unchanging love.
Tones that fell upon my ear,
Like the music of the grove ;
Yet the golden coin, the purest,
Hath its portion of alloy.
And black Care, when bliss seems surest.
Comes to mix the cup of joy.
Ah ! 'twas sweet to dream and sip.
" Dreamer, wake
Until Care cried,
* Coleridge in tlie " Ancieni: Mariner.''