STILL THOU FLIEST.
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Sill thou fes,, and still Iwoo thee,


Lovely phantom--all in vain;
Restless ever, my thoughts pursue thee,


Fleeing ever, thou mock their pain
Such doom, of old, that youth betlded,


Who wooed, he thought, some angels charms.
But found cloud that from him gllded-


As though dost from these oul-sretched arms
Scarce We said, Hew fair thou shinest,''


Ere thy light hath vanished by;
And i is when thou ook'st dlvlnest


Thou art still most sure to fly.
Evn as the lightning, that dividing


The cloud of night, saith 'Lock on me"
Then fits again, lis splendor hiding


Evn such the glimpse catch OF thee