 | Poems |  |
I.
TO AN IDEAL OBJECT.
Though far away, I still shall see thee here,
Shall see thy eyes so deep, thy modest mien,
And hear that fairy laughter, which yestreen
Fell like sweet music on my spell-bound ear.
Shall see thy eyes so deep, thy modest mien,
And hear that fairy laughter, which yestreen
Fell like sweet music on my spell-bound ear.
Though far away, in truth thou dwell'st as near
As wert thou daily, hourly to be seen,
Nor of thy truthfulness have I a fear,
What is with thee stands fast and shows serene.
As wert thou daily, hourly to be seen,
Nor of thy truthfulness have I a fear,
What is with thee stands fast and shows serene.
Would thou wert real, creature of my brain!
Thy voice and laughter, and those deep, still eyes,
And I of loneliness might not complain;
Thy voice and laughter, and those deep, still eyes,
And I of loneliness might not complain;
Then I should be inestimably wise,
Nor end my days in this so bitter pain,
Which far within my inmost being lies.
Nor end my days in this so bitter pain,
Which far within my inmost being lies.
| Poems | |