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L A LLA.
BY THE LADY E. S. WORTLEY.
RECLINED upon thy glittering cushions,
Young radiant Beauty of the East; What lovely dreams, what gentle fancies
Come to charm thy maiden breast?
Are they of some dark-eyed lover,
Who breathed through blushing flowers his love ;Whose passion in thy heart hath waken'd
Sweet reply-pure spotless dove?
Or say, art thou, thus bright and matchless,
Destined for some loftier fate; Shalt thou in the sultan's palace
Reign the first in charms and state ?
Shall thy beauty win these honours
Shalt thou yet be named and known “ The harem's light, the monarch's idol,
Mistress of his heart and throne ?”
Ah! beauteous being ! happier, surely,
If some lowlier love is thine ;
Thou shalt find love's breath divine.
Youth, passion, freedom, sunshine, roses,
Are not these, of wealth, enough?
Oft with thorns and briars are rough!
TO THE LADY EMMELINE MANNERS, UPON READING A POEM OF HERS IN 1830, ENDING, “ AND STILL I EVER
LOVE IN VAIN!”
BY THE MARQUESS OF LONDONDERRY.
'Tis said she loves each earthly thing,
She ever loves in vain ! -
And force a life of pain.
Ah! 'tis an anguish too severe,
It banishes all rest.–
To agonize her breast ?
Her torturing pangs, alas ! are found
That venom'd darts can send ;
Be loved—is feeling's end !
Nor every hope destroy.
All that she dreams of joy!