TO ONE I LOVE.

Oh, let me plead with thee to have a nook,

A garden nook, not far from thy domain,

That there, with harp, and voice, and poet-book,

I may be true to thee, and, passion-fain,

Rehearse the songs of nature once again:—

The songs of Cynthia wandering by the brook

To soothe the raptures of a lover's pain,

And those of Phyllis with her shepherd's crook!

I die to serve thee, and for this alone,—

To be thy bard-elect, from day to day,—

I would forego the right to fill a throne.

I would consent to be the famine-prey

Of some fierce pard, if ere the night were flown

I could subdue thy spirit to my sway.