 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
LOVING HEARTS.
O TELL me not the world is dark,
With shadows lengthening to the tomb!
Mine eyes would rather fondly mark
Where sunlight flashes through the gloom.
And I would fain in error dwell,
If truth such darksome lore imparts,
And rather die than e'er dispel
My dream of Loving Hearts.
With shadows lengthening to the tomb!
Mine eyes would rather fondly mark
Where sunlight flashes through the gloom.
And I would fain in error dwell,
If truth such darksome lore imparts,
And rather die than e'er dispel
My dream of Loving Hearts.
Their perfume would forsake the flowers,
The golden hues of summer fade;
The hush'd birds droop, in withered bowers,
And sunny brooklets sink to shade,—
And o'er the soul of living things
Would fall the gloom that ne'er departs,
If from our bright imaginings
Were banished Loving Hearts.
The golden hues of summer fade;
The hush'd birds droop, in withered bowers,
And sunny brooklets sink to shade,—
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Would fall the gloom that ne'er departs,
If from our bright imaginings
Were banished Loving Hearts.
They are around us and above—
Half-hidden, as in wild-wood leaves
Close nestles some white-breasted dove;
And he is happy who believes
That they are living, though unseen,
Like light, ere from the cloud it starts,—
And he is truly blest, I ween,
Who loves those Loving Hearts!
Half-hidden, as in wild-wood leaves
Close nestles some white-breasted dove;
And he is happy who believes
That they are living, though unseen,
Like light, ere from the cloud it starts,—
And he is truly blest, I ween,
Who loves those Loving Hearts!
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |