Solace or joy of mine! How weak to trust
Undying love like mine to mortal formed of dust!
“Farewell, farewell! ye bright-winged sister spirits,
Immortal in your beauty and your truth!
I cannot envy ye—my soul inherits
A dowry dearer than immortal youth,
E’en from the fulness of my present joy,
While yet I linger near my beauteous island-boy!
“Ah! for one thrill of love to wring with bliss
The delicate fibres of a heart like mine,