Poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

The Phoenix and the Dove

[The Hint taken from the French of Millevoix.]

My wings are bright with the rainbow's dyes,
    My birth is amid perfume;
My death-song is music's sweetest sighs;
    The sun himself lights my tomb.
My flight is traced in the clouds above;
    The grave teems with life for me;
I stand alone—Alone! cried the dove—
    Oh, I then can but pity thee!

1. Amelioration and the Future, Man's Noble Tasks
2. Lines to ——— (Think of me, and I'll tell thee when)
3. Lines on ——
4. Absence (Oh! never can we feel how dear)
5. Lancaster

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