Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. |
| VERY INTERESTING SONNETS.
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| 1. |
| 2. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
VERY INTERESTING SONNETS.
To Caroline.
I.
[Have I not called thee angel-like and fair?]
Have I not called thee angel-like and fair?What wouldst thou more? 'Twere perilous to gaze
Long on those dark bright eyes whose flashing rays
Fill with a soft and fond, yet proud, despair
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Their locked-up thoughts with none: thou hast their praise;
But beauty hears not their adoring lays,
Which tremble when but whispered in the air.
Yet, think not, although stamped as one of those,
Ah! think not thou this heart hath never burned
With passion deeply felt and ill returned.
If, ice-cold now, its pulse no longer glows,
The memory of unuttered love and woes
Lies there, alas! too faithfully inurned.
II.
[For once I dreamed that mutual love was more]
For once I dreamed that mutual love was moreThan a bright phantom thought; and when mankind
Mocked mine illusion, then did I deplore
Their ignorance, and deem them cold and blind.
And years rolled on, and still I did adore
The unreal image loftily enshrined
In the recesses of mine own sick mind.
Enough; the spell is broke—the dream is o'er,
The enchantment is dissolved—the world appears
The thing it is—a theatre—a mart.
Genius illumines, and the work of art
Renews the wonders of our childhood's years;
Power awes—wealth shines—wit sparkles—but the heart,
The heart is lost, for love no more endears.
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |