Displace their sylvan honors. They will pass
In turn away;—yet heedless of all change,
Surviving all, thou still wilt murmur on,
Lessoning the fleeting race that look on thee
To mark the wrecks of time, and read their doom.
ROMANCE.
FROM THE FRENCH.
How thrillingly remembrance clings,
My native France, to thee!
Oh, sister! life had joyous wings,