‘And Love!’ said I, ‘whither is he departed? If not too late, I would propitiate and appease him.’
‘He who cannot follow me, he who cannot overtake and pass me,’ said the Genius, ‘is unworthy of the name, the most glorious in earth or heaven. Look up! Love is yonder, and ready to receive thee.’
I looked: the earth was under me: I saw only the clear blue sky, and something brighter above it.
POEMS
I
She I love (alas in vain!)
Floats before my slumbering eyes:
When she comes she lulls my pain,
When she goes what pangs arise!
Thou whom love, whom memory flies,
Gentle Sleep! prolong thy reign!
If even thus she soothe my sighs,
Never let me wake again!
II
Pleasure! why thus desert the heart
In its spring-tide?
I could have seen her, I could part,
And but have sigh’d!
O’er every youthful charm to stray,
To gaze, to touch....
Pleasure! why take so much away,
Or give so much?