Thine is a face to look upon and pray That a pure spirit keep thee. I would meet With one so gentle by the streams away, Living with nature; keeping thy pure feet For the unfingered moss, and for the grass Which leaneth where the gentle waters pass. The autumn leaves should sigh thee to thy sleep, And the capricious April, coming on, Awake thee like a flower, and stars should keep A vigil o’er thee like Endymion; And thou for very gentleness shouldst weep, As dew of the night’s quietness comes down. I’ve praised thee, Genevieve! A dream of mine Hath just such dark and shaded eyes as thine. SONNET. I have been gazing on thee, Genevieve, And musing, in my love, if thou must die; And I have thought it were not well to grieve At thy most delicate frame and lustrous eye; For as a harp is broken, when the finger That knew its cunning hath forgot to play, Thou wouldst not, for that frail confinement, linger, When it was time for thee to pass away; And therefore am I glad, that when my heart To thy enquiring tenderness is hushed, And thine endearments from mine eyes depart, ’Twill be enough for thee that life hath gushed, Gently to loose the silver cord, and die, And with me in my place of slumber lie. SONNET. I care not that the world, when I am dead, Remember me; I care not that they come To see the place where I shall lay my head, Or praise me with low voices at my tomb; I would not even a recording stone Should tell them what I was--when I am gone. There are a few who love me--whom I love-- Gentle and gifted spirits, who would weep, But not that I had found a rest above, And in their hearts my trifling virtues keep; And one, whom I have folded like a dove In my affections, would lie down and sleep Softly beside me--and I should not care, That any one should know that I was there. EXTRACT FROM A POEM DELIVERED AT THE DEPARTURE OF THE SENIOR CLASS OF YALE COLLEGE, IN 1826. * * * * *