University of Virginia Library

Oh! what is love?—A smiling guest
That lights the look, and joys the breast,—
That wantons in the train of beauty,
And lives in many a bright black eye;—
Whose promises of faith and duty
Are utter'd in a sigh:—
With ardour breathed, remember'd long,—
The theme of every tale and song,—
The glowing flame that burns to strengthen,—
The chain that time and absence lengthen;—
A mystic feeling of the breast,
That makes anxiety seem rest!
Oh! Love is never prized unless
It brings a host of grief and fears;
A calm return of love appears
A weary weight of nothingness,—
A still, insipid pledge of hearts,
Where quick success disgust imparts,—
Where nought is left to hope or dread,—
Where all is gain'd that e'er was sought;—
A fireless passion bred from nought,
That slumbers in the bosom dead.
When sailing on the wide, wide ocean,
The sailor values not repose;
He joys to see the tide in motion,—
To feel it roughen as it flows,—
To feel the dark blue waters ride
In billows 'gainst the vessel's side;
For sad is idle calm, when dull
The breezes breathe, and not a wave
The timbers of the vessel lave;—
When silence tends the mind to lull,—
When like a log the ship remains,
And ne'er her trackless travel gains.
Ah! What is love? Can any tell?
Can even the heart that feels it well?
For it is such an inward feeling,
That gathers wildness from concealing,—
That gives a joy amid its grief,
And brings in anguish a relief.
Yes! Love is cherish'd, yet upbraided;
Ah! Love is honour'd, yet degraded;—
And those who feel its strength increase,
Ask for, yet ne'er desire, release,—
But live in self-created pains,
And rave aloud, yet hug their chains.