I know not which is the most fatal gift, Genius or Love, for both alike are ruled By stars of bright aspect and evil influence. - Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Let the rose fall, another rose
Will bloom upon the self-same tree ;
Let the bird die, ere evening close
Some other bird will sing for me.
It is for the beloved to love,
'Tis for the happy to be kind ;
Sorrow will more than death remove
The associate links affections bind.

I left my home, and I was left
A stranger in his land, bereft
Of even hope; there was not one
Familiar face to look upon.—
Their speech was strange.

You said in our old ash-tree a bird had built its nest ;
Perhaps this very linnet has there its place of rest.
Now who will keep his little ones when night begins to fall ?
They have no other shelter, and they will perish all.
There'll be no more sweet singing within that lonely grove ;
Now, Henry, free your prisoner, I pray you, for my love.
Our father is a soldier, and in some distant war
He too might be a prisoner in foreign lands afar.