Go; vainly in thy breast lies hid the steel
That pierces. I perceive thy sad estate,
Thy silent fortitude; and for thy weal
I pray thee meet thy fate.
And weep before me! Cast thy burden down,
I know that sorrow finds a drear relief
In solitude, and wears abroad the crown
Of a majestic grief.
The hand of friendship may not put aside
The heavy folds of the funereal veil,
And on the threshold of an arid pride,
Words seem to faint, and fail.
But days have passed, I come—nay—never start,
Suffer my presence, place thy hand in mine,
Pour thy full soul into my faithful heart
Whose pulses all are thine.
If friendship only bore me to thy side,
I would withdraw before thine icy face,
Obey the teachings of my human pride,
My eager steps retrace.