Leave me not, Love! ’twas thus a poet chanted
His heart’s fond pleadings to the midnight air—
Leave not the dwelling by thy presence haunted,
The home thou long hast filled with visions fair.
Oh, leave me not! although thy fleeting pleasures
Are but as snow-flakes in the sun’s warm ray;
Though thy best gifts are only fairy treasures,
A golden glitter flung o’er things of clay;
Yet leave me not!—all earthly hopes have perished,
And e’en thine hour of promise has gone by,