From the Southern Literary Messenger (June 1851)

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"Fate! seek me out some lake far off and lone"

Fate! seek me out some lake far off and lone,
Shut in by hills of green and gradual rise,
And beautified with blue inverted skies--
Where not a breeze but comes with softened tone.
And if the waves awake, they only moan
With a low lulling music, like the rills
That make their home among those happy hills;
And let me find--left there by hands unknown--
A bark with mouldering sides and rifted sail,
Just strong enough to bear me from the shore,
But not to reach its tree-girt harbour more--
Oh, happy, happy rest! oh, world of wail!
How calmly I would tempt the peaceful deep,
And sink to death, as if I sank to sleep.