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.