 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
238
PITY AND LOVE.
Child of the Sun!—his brightest Child!
And wouldest thou hear the Stranger's tale—
His wrongs so deep—his griefs so wild—
Ah! no, 'twould make that rich cheek pale!
And wouldest thou hear the Stranger's tale—
His wrongs so deep—his griefs so wild—
Ah! no, 'twould make that rich cheek pale!
And oh! bright Offspring of the Sun,
I feel, if thou sweet Pity give,
By thy compassion more undone,
I yet again may love and live.
I feel, if thou sweet Pity give,
By thy compassion more undone,
I yet again may love and live.
Then let me the dark truth conceal,
And struggle still, and suffer on,
Again to learn to hope and feel,
Would be again to be undone!
And struggle still, and suffer on,
Again to learn to hope and feel,
Would be again to be undone!
239
“Stranger, your sorrows will not last,
Forget your Fate even now awhile;
The Present must become the Past,
Or if you weep, or if you smile!
Forget your Fate even now awhile;
The Present must become the Past,
Or if you weep, or if you smile!
“Yet tell me why thou seek'st our shore,
Only to wail, and grieve, and sigh,
While all beside admire—adore
Our Clime, our Earth, our Air, and Sky!”
Only to wail, and grieve, and sigh,
While all beside admire—adore
Our Clime, our Earth, our Air, and Sky!”
“Bright Sunlike Daughter of the Sun!
Fair Child of these Enchanted Isles!
May thy young Life by Fate be spun
Into one lustrous web of smiles.
Fair Child of these Enchanted Isles!
May thy young Life by Fate be spun
Into one lustrous web of smiles.
“For me—for me—I can but weep—
Torn from my home—my Heaven of Light;
No joy from thy fair Earth I reap,
Though sweet its flow'ry stores and bright.
Torn from my home—my Heaven of Light;
No joy from thy fair Earth I reap,
Though sweet its flow'ry stores and bright.
240
“For me—for me—I must despair,
Driven from my home—my Heaven of Love;
I sorrowing breathe thy perfumed air—
Shrink from thy very Heavens above!”
Driven from my home—my Heaven of Love;
I sorrowing breathe thy perfumed air—
Shrink from thy very Heavens above!”
“Ah! say, why leave thy native soil,
Thy home—thy Heaven of Love and Light?
Say—did she frown on thee—whose smile
Made it a Heaven thus fair and bright?”
Thy home—thy Heaven of Love and Light?
Say—did she frown on thee—whose smile
Made it a Heaven thus fair and bright?”
“Lady, I thought her lofty mind
Was formed of lovely thoughts and grand,
I thought her heart was soft and kind,
Even as her beauteous looks were bland.
Was formed of lovely thoughts and grand,
I thought her heart was soft and kind,
Even as her beauteous looks were bland.
“But though on me she never frowned,
But oh! far worse—deceiving smiled,
Her fickle faithlessness I found,
Too long had my weak heart beguiled.
But oh! far worse—deceiving smiled,
Her fickle faithlessness I found,
Too long had my weak heart beguiled.
241
“And then with tortured Soul I turned
From those false wiles and looks so bland,
And while with jealous wrath I burned,
Forsook my fair, fair Fatherland!”
From those false wiles and looks so bland,
And while with jealous wrath I burned,
Forsook my fair, fair Fatherland!”
“Stranger! thy sorrows move my soul,
Too dangerously and deeply move;
Forgive these tears that downward roll,
And show the Pity that I prove.
Too dangerously and deeply move;
Forgive these tears that downward roll,
And show the Pity that I prove.
“Stranger! forgive these swelling sighs,
Thou would'st not my compassion move!—
Never before unto mine eyes
Did Pity seem so like to Love!”
Thou would'st not my compassion move!—
Never before unto mine eyes
Did Pity seem so like to Love!”
“Lady, I am indeed undone—
Where'er thou art my Heaven is there;
Thy smile must be my own bright Sun,
Thy breath—thy breath my Native Air.
Where'er thou art my Heaven is there;
Thy smile must be my own bright Sun,
Thy breath—thy breath my Native Air.
242
“Thou'st healed—to deeplier wound my heart
Thy Pity hath my soul unmanned—
My Native Soil is where thou art—
My Country—and my Fatherland!”
Thy Pity hath my soul unmanned—
My Native Soil is where thou art—
My Country—and my Fatherland!”
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |