TO MARY.
Now lovely Vesper shows her lamp,
In yonder slowly darkening sky;
It is the hour, when musing here,
I heave for thee the bursting sigh.
Thus, Mary, as yon mournful pall
Of darkness falls on all things round,
Ah! tell me shall the gloom of fate,
My cheerless pathway thus surround?
But, as yon lamp—the lamp of love!
With brilliant smile, relieves the gloom,
Say, shall thy heavenly smile relieve
The darkness of my mortal doom?
Alas! I do not know thy thoughts,
If thou wilt slay, or sweetly save;
Yet I shall love thee fondly still,
Until I rest within the grave.