Where'er man flies, his fate ne'er changes;

And should he sip the cup of joy,

Some tyrant's hand will dash it down.

Once more, farewell! And I thy beauty

And charms sublime shall ne'er forget;

And long, long shall, trembling, hear at night

The echo of thy mighty roar.

To forest shade, or the silent plain,

I ne'er shall bring a thought, save thine;

See thy cliffs, thy gleam, thy yawning gulfs,

And hear the chatter of thy waves.

ELEGY.

Beneath the deep-blue sky of her own native land,

She weary grew, and, drooping, pined away:

She died and passed, and over me I oft-times feel

Her youthful shadow fondly hovering;

And all the while a gaping chasm divides us both.

In vain I would my aching grief awake:

From tongue indifferent I heard the fatal news,

With ear indifferent I learned her death.

And yet, 'tis true, I loved her once with ardent soul,

My heart of hearts enwrapt in her alone;

With all the tenderness of languor torturing,

With all the racking pains of fond despair!

Where now my love, my pains? Alas, my barren soul

For her, so light and easy of belief,

For memory of days that nothing can recall,

To song or tears is dead and voiceless now.

VAIN GIFT, GIFT OF CHANCE.

Vain gift, vain gift of blindest chance,

Life, why wert thou granted me?

Or why, by fate's supreme decree,

Wert thou foredoomed to sorrow?

Alas, what god's unfriendly power

Called me forth from nothingness,