The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||
9
O! Calm, my Love.
1819.
O calm, my love, the tumult here,
Where peace and joy should only be;
And, Anna, wipe away the tear,
For, trust me, I am true to thee!
Where peace and joy should only be;
And, Anna, wipe away the tear,
For, trust me, I am true to thee!
Yon stars that seemed to pause on high
To see two hearts so blest below,
In blazing wreck shall leave the sky
When thou art left to lonely woe!
To see two hearts so blest below,
In blazing wreck shall leave the sky
When thou art left to lonely woe!
Thy bosom-chords are finely drawn—
And cruel were the hand could bear,
Profane, to wake another tone
Than one of joy or rapture there!
And cruel were the hand could bear,
Profane, to wake another tone
Than one of joy or rapture there!
When Summer comes with all her blooms,
Thy love shall be my sweetest flower;
When Winter flings his cheerless glooms,
Thy smile shall light my humble bower.
Thy love shall be my sweetest flower;
When Winter flings his cheerless glooms,
Thy smile shall light my humble bower.
The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||