A year hath pass'd!—another year
Its wonted round may run;
Yet earth will still be dark and drear,
As when its course begun.
I would not murmur or repine,
Yet, though a thousand joys were mine,
I still should sigh for one;
How could I think of her who died,
And taste of joy from aught beside!
VIII.
Yes, dearest! though that treasured love
Now casts a gloom o'er all,
Thy spirit from its rest above
I would not yet recall:
My earthly doom thou canst not share,
And I in solitude must bear
Whate'er may still befal;
But I can share thy home, thy heaven,
All griefs forgot, all guilt forgiven!
[LOVE AND REASON.]
Gentle Lady! thy smile as the starlight is fair,
And thine eyes are as charming as ever they were;
And thy voice is the same as that love-breathing tone
Which once whispered my name in this bower alone;
But since then, that sweet voice, in this bower of thine,
Hath whispered another's as fondly as mine!
You remember the vow which you made me at eve,
When together we swore in one faith to believe;
You remember the stars that looked on from above,
And how sweetly you called them 'the sentries of love!'
Those stars, thou false maiden! were shining that hour,
When I heard that strange name in this very same bower!
Perhaps you then thought it a very good game,
To sigh to one lover, till the other one came:
And now I remember, I once heard you own
That you never could sit in this bower alone;
'And so I could not,' quoth the maid, with a sneer,
'So I talked to my parrot, as you were not here!'