IV.
And then thine Eye! of morn's grey hue
Kindling with beams of wit—
If its deep glories prove untrue,
Let all be false, like it!
V.
'Let all be false!'—How hath this thought
Found life within my heart?—
Is this a change thy spell hath wrought,
Thy spirit could impart?
VI.
I may, I can, I must forget
Those golden hours with thee:
Half-lovers were we ere we met,
Such could we no more be!
VII.
Forever be forgot, the day,
The form, the voice, the eye—
Since thou thyself art ta'en away,
Take, take thy memory,
VIII.
Thy dewy fragrance from my heart;
Thy Genius off my mind;
Thine untold Grace, the thrill, the dart—
Leave not a dream behind!