V[ToC]
I seek to call you near me in the dark
And silent prison of my solitude,
Where Memory with visions heaven-hued
Now mocks the night, and Hope with timid spark
Kindles vain torches. Lonely in my ark
Of Faith, on battling waves I float, pursued
By all those doubting monsters that delude
Pain-sunken breasts, and bid the soul embark
For perilous despair. I call you near
That I may cheat the helmsman of his fear:
And yet I know you far, I know you lost
To me, on this same ocean tempest-tossed
Alone—O you who should my pilot be!
You, whom my love could steer through any sea....
VI[ToC]
When Spring awakens and no Spring is there,
None for the heart, it is a joyless thing.
Yet Winter softens, and all breezes bring
To the hard earth now tidings vague and fair.
The lilac buds are swelling, the mild air
Tempts forth the green; at dusk the thrushes sing
Out in the garden, and their raptures wring
The heart whose joy is of the past. I bear
Remembrance in me of dear foliage gone,
Of wilted heather and of perished flowers.
For me not one of Spring's foreshadowed hours
Is quick with presages of joy. Alone
Who cares to creep? The solitary ways
Are primrose-less, and vain the violet days.