II.—OH! DROOP THOU NOT.
“They sin who tell us love can die,
With life all other passions fly;
All others are but vanity.
In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell.
Earthly these passions, as of earth—
They perish where they drew their birth.
But love is indestructible!
Its holy flame for ever burneth;
From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.”
Southey.
Oh! droop thou not, my gentle earthly love!
Mine still to be!
I bore through death, to brighter lands above,
My thoughts of thee.
Yes! the deep memory of our holy tears,
Our mingled prayer,
Our suffering love, through long devoted years,
Went with me there,
It was not vain, the hallow'd and the tried—
It was not vain!
Still, though unseen, still hovering at thy side,
I watch again!
From our own paths, our love's attesting bowers,
I am not gone;
In the deep calm of Midnight's whispering hours,
Thou art not lone:
Not lone, when by the haunted stream thou weepest,
That stream whose tone
Murmurs of thoughts, the richest and the deepest,
We two have known:
Not lone, when mournfully some strain awaking
Of days long past,
From thy soft eyes the sudden tears are breaking,
Silent and fast:
Not lone, when upwards, in fond visions turning
Thy dreamy glance,
Thou seek'st my home, where solemn stars are burning,
O'er night's expanse.
My home is near thee, loved one! and around thee,
Where'er thou art;
Though still mortality's thick cloud hath bound thee,
Doubt not thy heart!
Hear its low voice, nor deem thyself forsaken—
Let faith be given
To the still tones which oft our being waken—
They are of heaven!
