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Literary Gazette, 29th March 1823, Page 203-204
(Songs)
The dream on the pillow
That flits with the day,
The leaf of the willow
A breath wears away;
The dust on the blossom,
The spray on the sea:
Aye—ask thine own bosom—
Are emblems of thee.
When I trust the dark waters,
And tempests are near,
List the blue sea's false daughters,
And think not on fear—
Oh then I'll believe thee
As once I believed,
Nor dread thou'lt deceive me
As thou hast deceived.
When the rose blooms at Christmas
I'll trust thee again,
Or the snow falls in summer,—
But never till then!
