 | Poems |  |
47
STANZAS.
[Let fools with disappointment groan]
Let fools with disappointment groan,
My bliss no mortal can defer,
For it springs from myself alone;
Yes—yes, the very dream of her
Is far more rapturous to me,
Than any other's self can be.
My bliss no mortal can defer,
For it springs from myself alone;
Yes—yes, the very dream of her
Is far more rapturous to me,
Than any other's self can be.
Lull then thy cares for me to rest,—
Still let me slumber idly on;
I would not, if I could, be blest,—
My happy dreams might then be gone
And, oh! I would not risk to lose them,
E'en for the heaven within her bosom:—
Still let me slumber idly on;
I would not, if I could, be blest,—
My happy dreams might then be gone
And, oh! I would not risk to lose them,
E'en for the heaven within her bosom:—
48
For were she less than I have form'd,
Though still she might an angel be
To hearts, by love like mine unwarm'd,
She'd less than woman be to me;
And, after dreams of heav'n, to wake
To mortal dreams—my heart would break!
Though still she might an angel be
To hearts, by love like mine unwarm'd,
She'd less than woman be to me;
And, after dreams of heav'n, to wake
To mortal dreams—my heart would break!
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