In the green ruined tower by the wild Scottish rill;
A heart framed for joy like the wine-cup I brought thee,
With Fancy’s rich draught thou the chalice didst fill.
O soft was thy dawning, thou mental Aurora,
It shed on my morning-dream heaven’s young ray,
With the seraph-wing’d bird through the cloudlets of glory
My soul soared exulting through life’s early day;
Then love’s vernal flush filled my bosom with gladness,
And she whom I loved shared its passion with thee;
She left me to pine in the chill shade of sadness,