The gushing eyes that read thy lot,
Nor, if thou knewest, couldst return!
And why the wish! the pure and blest
Watch like thy mother o’er thy sleep.
O peaceful night! O envied rest!
Thou wilt not ever see her weep.
Similar Posts
NO, my own love of other years!
Much rests with you that yet endears,Alas! but what with me?Could those bright years o’er me revolveSo gay, o’er you so fair,The pearl of life we would dissolveAnd each the cup might share.You show that truth can ne’er decay,Whatever fate befalls;I, that the myrtle and the bayShoot fresh on ruin’d walls.
‘Do you remember me? or are you proud?’
Ianthe said, and lookt into my eyes,‘A yes, a yes, to both: for MemoryWhere you but once have been must ever be,And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.’
FIRST BOOK.
Among those mountain-caverns which retainHis labours yet, vast halls and flowing wells,Nor have forgotten their old master’s nameThough severed from his people here, incensedBy meditating on primeval wrongs,He blew his battle-horn, at which uproseWhole nations; here, ten thousand of most mightHe called aloud, and soon Charoba sawHis dark helm hover o’er the land of Nile,What…
YOU smil’d, you spoke, and I believ’d,
Another man would hope no more;Nor hope I what I hop’d before:But let not this last wish be vain;Deceive, deceive me once again!
IN his own image the Creator made,
Thou breathing dial! since thy day beganThe present hour was ever mark’d with shade!
HERE, ever since you went abroad,
I only walk our wonted road,The road is only walk’d by me.Yes; I forgot; a change there is–Was it of that you bade me tell?I catch at times, at times I missThe sight, the tone, I know so well.Only two months since you stood here?Two shortest months? Then tell me whyVoices are harsher than they…