WITH what despair thou hast inspired my muse
In these sad lines, my muse alone can tell.
For were I to describe to thee the spell
Thine eye hath cast upon me, thou wouldst choose
The power of raillery that thou dost use,
To shatter thoughts, my spirit would not sell
For those, far greater, which the poets foretell,
Oft in their verse Love’s magic doth infuse.
But all that I hold now within my realm
Of art is thee, that art thy power alone,
To make my lines reflect the hours of spring;
Or yet again with sadness overwhelm.
For when thy heart seems graven, as in stone,
My holiest thoughts to earth their hopes would fling.
LXX
HOW sweet to me are these soft days of spring;
But how much sweeter, did thy beauty bear,
Like cherry blossoms o’er the flowering air,
Its scented fragrance to me; and did bring
Some songs of love, like birds upon the wing,
To tell me that my love, with thine, might share
These lovers’ hours, that in the spring appear,
And o’er the earth their efflorescence fling.
Ah, Love! thy winter’s waiting hath well-nigh
This heart of mine, for love of thee, so broken,
That it hath scarce the power to beat to-day.
’Twere time, indeed, to compensate my sigh
At last with Love’s unutterable token,
That shall not with the seasons fade away.
LXXI
THOU camest unto me last eventide,
When the dull pain of absence had well-nigh
Made life for me one long-continued sigh,
And given me but little hope to hide
The hideous thought, that never to my side
Wouldst thou again spontaneously fly.
Still, some o’erpowering contact bid me try.
And lo! success my efforts did betide.
Oh! rapture to my soul, more sweet to me
Than glories to the conqueror of a nation!
Behold my dry heart, moistened at the sound
Of thy dear voice—none dearer could there be—
And my sad soul, once more within love’s station,
As thy fair form doth twine my heart around!
LXXII
YET now I cannot with impunity
Receive the gilded pleasure of thy love.
God knoweth with what zeal for it I strove.
But when I feel love’s sweet community,
It bringeth to me the lost unity—
The loneliness, when I no longer have
Near me thy spirit sent me from above,
To test through pain my soul’s immunity.
Then, though this cup of joy be mixed with sorrow,
Once more must I drink of its poisoned draft,
Whilst praying unto God to purify,
With thy return of love to me, the morrow,
That holds the price of that which I have quaffed;
And for all time my spirit satisfy.
LXXIII
WHILE thou art near to me, my spirit’s bride
Art thou. No mortal can possess thee now,
Loved inspiration of my life! I trow
Thou lovest me while we are side by side.
No sorrow surely will this eve betide.
Love’s heaven only our two hearts shall know,
And for one hour leave life gladly so,
As o’er the surface of love’s lake we glide.
Ah, loved one! An emotion my heart swelleth,
Even as I worship at thy sacred shrine,
Which is the noblest life hath brought to me;
So great, so holy, that no pen e’er telleth,
Till God hath given man a sight of thee,
And shown him one who seemeth half divine!