THE MUSE.

T o

 BY LORD BYRON.
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The sun Is set in the west,

 The stars are on the sea- Each kindly hand I've pressed.

 And now farewell 10 thee! Our cup of parting done,

 Iris the darkest can sip, And Eve pledged them every one,

 With my heart and with my lip; But came to thee the last,

 hat ii Sadness we might throw One look OCT the past

 Tosether-ere go. met thee in gy spring.

 When my heart was like the if That on it's airy wing

 Sports the Iivelong summer by; l loved thee with the love Or wild and burning boy, Thy being was inwove

 With my grief and with my joy. Thou vert to me star

 In the silence of the night A thing to see from far,

 With fear and with delight. The hour ofjoy is gone

 When man and man depart, The deep wrung hand alone

 May tell the anguish'd heart; No tear may stain the eye,

 And their parting look must be Like the stiffness of the sky,

 Ere the storm has swept the sea; But when we say farewell,

 To her we love the best, One bitter tear may swell

 Nor shame the stoutest breast. I would not that my name

 Should ever meet thine ear; have smiles for men's acclaim, For their censure not fear; Nor would |, when thy nome Looks joyously and bright, That the thought Of me should come To sadden thy delight: would dwell thing apart, For thy spirit to descrY-- A brightness on thy heart,

 A shadow on thine eye. When the wine cup circles round, will quaf it with the rest, But thy name will never sound At the revel or the feast; But with him who shares my heart, When the banquet hall is lone, In one deep cup, ere VIC part, We will pledge thee lovely one! Thy name I'll murmur then With a prayer, if heav'n allow, To embrace thee once again, As close as do now. Beloved one--farewell!

 And though no hope be given, Thy name shall he spell

 To turn my thoughts 10 Heaven; And thy memory to me,

 What the dew is to the rose, It shall come as gratefully

 h the hour of my repose; 1t shall be-what IL has been--

 A lamp within tomb To burn-tho' all unseen,

 And light tho but gloom. When the shade is on thy dwelling, And the murmur on thine ear; When the breeze is round thee swelling And the landscape dark and drear; When no lover is beside thee,

 To fatter or to smile; When there be none to guide thee,

 And many to beguile; When wther'd is the token,

 And all uniink'd the chain With faithunwarp'd- may kneel to thee again.