THOU reck'nest seven Heavens; I but one:
And thou art it, Beloved! Voice and hand,
And eye and mouth, are but the angel band
Who minister around that highest throne—
Thy godlike heart. And there I reign supreme,
And choose, at will, the angel who I deem
Will sing the sweetest, words I love to hear—
That short, sweet song, whose echo clear
Will last throughout eternity:
"I love thee!
How I love thee!"
A LA SOMBRA DE MIS CABELLOS
FROM THE SPANISH.—SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
MY love lay there,
In the shadow of my hair,
As my glossy raven tresses downward flow;
And dark as midnight's cloud,
They fell o'er him like a shroud:
Ah! does he now remember it or no?