 | Poems |  |
101
SINGLE CURSEDNESS!
If, as an ancient Sage declares,Our souls all fall from Heaven in pairs,
Which, though dividing in their course,
Will still, impell'd by secret force,
Towards each other wing their flight,
Till they in bonds of love unite,—
Ah! tell me, all ye powers divine,
Where is the soul that should be mine?
Why do we thus asunder live,
And lose the bliss that each might give?
Ah! how much longer must I sigh
For peace, love only can supply?
102
In single misery to groan;
My days are dulness, vacancy,
The morning brings no light to me—
Noon no employ—the night no rest!
Nor joy, nor hope, dwell in my breast!
Ah! guide me, all ye powers above,
Guide me to her I'm born to love!
E'en though her coldness doom'd to meet,
To languish ages at her feet:
For, oh! methinks scorn, pain, despair,
Were better than this void to bear;
This loathsome stagnancy of feeling,
Over the heart like torpor stealing.
Oh! tell me where she may be found,
And I will journey earth's wide round,
To pour my vows, and woo her smile;
Counting as pleasure every toil!—
Ah! once to see her, once to know
My soul lit up with passion's glow,
Oh, it would drive far, far astray,
The rust that eats my heart away,
103
That now o'ercloud and dull my heart.
I then once more within my soul
Should own the feelings' sweet controul.
Once more should thrill with that sweet joy,
That best can lassitude destroy;
For, ah! 'tis love alone can give
That which makes life a bliss to live.
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