University of Virginia Library

II.

Are you happy, sweetest? Do you in your spirit feel serene?
I am saddened, I am restless, and I feel the touch of tears;
Not for any recent sorrow, but the season, and the scene,
And the yet remembered burden of my desolated years!
You are happy, I can see it, dawning on your pallid cheek,
And your clasping hand confesses all my love desires to know;
So I pray you, while you listen, let my troubled spirit speak,
And in words relieve its woe.
I am not of those who babble, be my suffering what it may;
Not for me poetic whining; all such weakness I despise:
With my nature wrapt around me I pursue my silent way,

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While a vague but settled purpose hardens in my dreamy eyes!
Yet the silence weighs upon me, and the night demands a tongue;
Therefore let me speak, my darling! even let my soul complain;
Years of utter silence give me right to speak what will relieve me,
Right to babble like the young,
Since it will relieve my pain:
Hear me, then, and my confession shall not trouble you again!