In vain I supplicate the Powers above;
There is no Resurrection for the Love
That, nursed with tenderest care, yet fades away
In the chilled heart by inward self-decay.
[[1088]]Like a lorn Arab old and blind 5
Some caravan had left behind
That sits beside a ruined Well,
And hangs his wistful head aslant,
Some sound he fain would catch—
Suspended there, as it befell, 10
O'er my own vacancy,
And while I seemed to watch
The sickly calm, as were of heart
A place where Hope lay dead,
The spirit of departed Love 15
Stood close beside my bed.
She bent methought to kiss my lips
As she was wont to do.
Alas! 'twas with a chilling breath
That awoke just enough of life in death 20
To make it die anew.

FOOTNOTES:

[1087:1] Now first published from an MS.

O

TWO VERSIONS OF THE EPITAPH[1088:1]

Inscribed in a copy of Grew's Cosmologia Sacra (1701)

[Vide ante, p. 491.]

1