 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
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ONCE! ONCE!
Once—Once—Ah! who on Earth but once must richly have been bless'd,
Though now the Heart beats faintly in the sad and lonely breast;
Once—once they revell'd in bright Hope, they nursed Joy's fairy dream,
But Hopes are borne away by Time—like rose-leaves down a stream.
Though now the Heart beats faintly in the sad and lonely breast;
Once—once they revell'd in bright Hope, they nursed Joy's fairy dream,
But Hopes are borne away by Time—like rose-leaves down a stream.
Oh! the dear Once of our crushed Hearts—when all look'd bright below—
The Once of our long-troubled Hearts—unfired—unfreshened now—
And lit but by a fevered glow—a fitful wavering Light,
That doth but more recall the days—when all was more than bright!
The Once of our long-troubled Hearts—unfired—unfreshened now—
And lit but by a fevered glow—a fitful wavering Light,
That doth but more recall the days—when all was more than bright!
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Aye—our unfired—unfreshened Hearts!—for sameness, dearth, and gloom,
Make them in cold monotony, their own pale ghosts become—
No fervent hopes, no glorious dreams, to cheer these Hearts forlorn,
At once they are haunted and they're lone—chilled, parched, and deeply worn.
Make them in cold monotony, their own pale ghosts become—
No fervent hopes, no glorious dreams, to cheer these Hearts forlorn,
At once they are haunted and they're lone—chilled, parched, and deeply worn.
Dark—turbid, clouded, flow the streams—Life's deep and mighty streams,
Once, once so pictured o'er with Hopes, Enchantments, Triumphs, Dreams—
Alas! Once, Once—how beauteously—how brilliantly did Life
Shine with bright Phantasms evermore—with every Promise rife!
Once, once so pictured o'er with Hopes, Enchantments, Triumphs, Dreams—
Alas! Once, Once—how beauteously—how brilliantly did Life
Shine with bright Phantasms evermore—with every Promise rife!
Once! Once!—Ah, Folly, let the Soul in resignation rest,
And let the deadened Heart remain unwakened in the breast—
Once—Once perchance more bless'd we were—but now we draw more near
To that Eternal Home, where smiles are chased not by a tear!
And let the deadened Heart remain unwakened in the breast—
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To that Eternal Home, where smiles are chased not by a tear!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |