 | The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir |  |
328
TO INEZ, IN ABSENCE.
Heu! quantum minus est reliquis versari, quam tui meminisse!
I
Oh! sweetly o'er th' Atlantic sea,The moon, with melancholy smile,
Looks down as I, beloved, on thee
Am fondly musing all the while:
And as, along the silver tide,
Its silent course the vessel steers,
I dream of days when, side by side,
We roam'd on eves of other years!
II
Though many a land, though many a wave,Between us rise, between us roll,
Still, like a beacon, bright to save,
Thou sheddest light upon my soul.
And though the mist of years hath pass'd,
Since first I bless'd its glorious shine,
Yet thoughts, and woes, and days amass'd,
Have only made it doubly thine!
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III
How sweetly to the pensive mindThe dreams of other days awake,
And all the joys we left behind,
No more on earth to overtake!
Our wanderings by the sandy shore,
Our walks along the twilight plain,
The raptures that we felt of yore,
And ne'er on earth shall feel again!
IV
Unclouded Moon! o'er rippling seasThou lookest down in placid grace;
With sails, expanded by the breeze,
Alert, our onward path we trace;
To foreign isles and lands unknown
We steer, where every sigh shall tell,
'Mid thousands as I walk alone,
My thoughts with those far distant dwell.
V
Unclouded Moon! 'tis sweet to markThine aspect, so serene and calm,
Dispersing, vanquishing the dark,
And o'er our sorrows shedding balm.
Departed days like visions pass
Across the hot and fever'd brow,
Blest years, and vanish'd eves, alas!
When thou didst shine as thou dost now!
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VI
Oh! brightly as of yesterdayThe dreams of vanish'd years awake,
The hopes that flatter'd to betray,
And left the joyless heart to break.—
I see thee, as I saw thee then,
Endow'd by youth with magic charm;
I hear thee, as I heard thee, when
We roam'd together, arm in arm.
VII
It were a soothing thought, that thouMayhap, now pondering, takest delight
To raise thy white, angelic brow,
And gaze upon the lovely night;
And that the very scenes might rise
Upon thy mind's reverted eye,
That draw from me a thousand sighs,
In starting up—and passing by.
VIII
'Twere nothing did we die—'twere noughtFrom life at once to pass away;
But thus to wither thought by thought,
And inch by inch, and day by day,—
To mark the lingering tints of light,
As twilight o'er the sky expands,—
To mark the wave's receding flight,
That leaves the bleak and barren sands,—
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IX
To see the stars that gem the skyFade one by one,—to note the leaves
Drop from the boughs all witheringly,
Thro' which the wintry tempest grieves—
'Tis this that chills the drooping heart,
That still we breathe, and feel, and live,
When all the flowers of earth depart,
And life hath not a joy to give!
X
Not parted yet—not parted yet—Though oceans roll and roar between;
A star that glitters ne'er to set,
Thou smilest bright, and shin'st serene,
Fair Inez! and the waste of life,
All bleak and barren though it be,
Although a scene of care and strife,
Has still a charm in having thee!
| The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir | |