sail shall never stretch again.

3.

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like Death itself comes down;
It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own;
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

4.

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest;
'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath[nj][316]
All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath.

5.

Oh, could I feel as I have felt,--or be what I have been,
Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene;
As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be,
So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.

_March, 1815._
[First published, _Poems, 1816._]

ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF DORSET.[317]

1.

I heard thy fate without a tear,
Thy loss with scarce a sigh;
And yet thou wast surpassing dear,
Too loved of all to die.
I know not what hath seared my eye--
Its tears refuse to start;
But every drop, it bids me dry,
Falls dreary on my heart.

2.

Yes, dull and heavy, one by one,
They sink and turn to care,
As caverned waters wear the stone,
Yet dropping harden there:
They cannot petrify more fast,
Than feelings sunk remain,
Which coldly fixed regard the past,
But never melt again.

[1815.]

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

1.

Bright be the place of thy soul!
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
On earth thou wert all but divine,
As thy soul shall immortally be;[nk]
And our sorrow may cease to repine
When we know that thy God is with thee.

2.

Light be the turf of thy tomb![nl][318]
May its verdure like emeralds be![nm]
There should not be the shadow of gloom
In aught that reminds us of thee.
Young f