 | Poetical Trifles |  |
TO MISS ---
“Heu quibus insidiis, quâ me circumdedit arte!”
And art thou gone! while nought remains
To bind my soul to thee;
Save what bright Fancy's pow'r retains,
Nurs'd by kind Memory.
To bind my soul to thee;
Save what bright Fancy's pow'r retains,
Nurs'd by kind Memory.
21
A time there was, when thou couldst say,
Thy heart with pure love burn'd;
But that blest time is flown away,
And thou deserter turn'd.
Thy heart with pure love burn'd;
But that blest time is flown away,
And thou deserter turn'd.
Thy voice that lisp'd with accent mild,
That spoke the hallow'd vow;
No more with hope shall rend me wild,
It only echoes now.
That spoke the hallow'd vow;
No more with hope shall rend me wild,
It only echoes now.
Thy eye, that shone so fondly bright,
When I was dear to thee;
No longer darts its melting light,
No tender beam for me!
When I was dear to thee;
No longer darts its melting light,
No tender beam for me!
Alas! thy soul, too soon resign'd
The sacred pledge of love;
And she, who e'er was fair and kind,
Did then inconstant prove.
The sacred pledge of love;
And she, who e'er was fair and kind,
Did then inconstant prove.
22
What maniac throes my bosom tore,
I wept o'er faded bliss!
Such grief was never felt before,
'Till mis'ry gave me this.
I wept o'er faded bliss!
Such grief was never felt before,
'Till mis'ry gave me this.
But still thou e'en must think of him
Who worshipp'd thy fond name:
Wild fancies will thy vision swim,
Thy blighted love reclaim.
Who worshipp'd thy fond name:
Wild fancies will thy vision swim,
Thy blighted love reclaim.
When worn with grief, the damp cold grave
This wearied head shall rest;
Thy crystal tears the spot may lave,
One sigh may swell thy breast.
This wearied head shall rest;
Thy crystal tears the spot may lave,
One sigh may swell thy breast.
And oft when night shall mantle round,
And spread her sable gloom,
Thy dreams will see me raise the ground,
Pale-shrouded from the tomb.
And spread her sable gloom,
Thy dreams will see me raise the ground,
Pale-shrouded from the tomb.
23
Thus he, whom thou couldst bear delude
By words so steep'd in guile;
Shall on thy calm repose intrude,
And tell thee all thy wile.
By words so steep'd in guile;
Shall on thy calm repose intrude,
And tell thee all thy wile.
But, fare thee well, O lovely maid!
Though lovely not for me:
While I, to distant regions stray'd,
Will live and die for thee.
Though lovely not for me:
While I, to distant regions stray'd,
Will live and die for thee.
| Poetical Trifles | |