OF THE BELOVED ONE.
I THINK of thee, whene'er the sun
O'er ocean flings;
I think of thee, whene'er the moonlight gleams
In silv'ry springs.
I see thee, when upon the distant
The dust awakes;
At midnight's hour, when on the fragile bridge
The wanderer quakes.
I hear thee, when yon billows rise
With murmur deep.
To tread the silent grove oft wander I,
When all's asleep.
I'm near thee, though thou far
away mayst be--
Thou, too, art near!
The sun then sets, the stars soon lighten me.
Would thou wert here!