Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||
XXI. I LOVED AN IDEAL.
I loved an ideal—I sought it in thee;
I found it unreal as stars in the sea.
I found it unreal as stars in the sea.
And shall I, disdaining an instinct divine—
By falsehood profaning that pure hope of mine—
By falsehood profaning that pure hope of mine—
Shall I stoop from my vision so lofty, so true—
From the light all Elysian that round me it threw?
From the light all Elysian that round me it threw?
Oh! guilt unforgiven, if false I could be
To myself and to Heaven, while constant to thee.
To myself and to Heaven, while constant to thee.
Ah no! though all lonely on earth be my lot,
I'll brave it, if only that trust fail me not—
I'll brave it, if only that trust fail me not—
The trust that, in keeping all pure from control
The love that lies sleeping and dreams in my soul,
The love that lies sleeping and dreams in my soul,
It may wake in some better and holier sphere,
Unbound by the fetter Fate hung on it here.
Unbound by the fetter Fate hung on it here.
Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||