Tasso and the Sisters Tasso's Spirit: The Nuptials of Juno: The Skeletons: The Spirits of the Ocean. Poems, By Thomas Wade |
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 | Tasso and the Sisters |  |
Oh! fast as sound the moments fly
When loving lips and eyes are nigh,—
And hours and years mov'd swiftly on
Within the Island's sunny clime,
Where joy and love for ever shone
Upon the tearless course of time:—
And the young Maid, as Spirits fair,
Still reign'd the peerless Beauty there;—
And he—the Ocean-Spirit's Child—
For ever on his lov'd-one smil'd,
And gave unto her wondering view
Things that till then no mortal knew;—
The mysteries of Sea and Heaven,
The language of their Dwellers bright—
All to her growing sense were given;
And songs by day and dreams by night,—
By Spirits sung, by Sprites inspir'd,—
For ever her young fancy fir'd.
Theirs was a love that could not die—
All free from Sorrow's tear, or sigh;
A feeling passionate, whose power
Alloy might never prove,—
But made their happy Island-bower
A Paradise of Love!
And, all alone, thro' grove and shade
Of foliage by each woodland glade,
They wander'd oft, when vanish'd Day
Left Night to her sublime array
Of stars, that love her brow to press—
Each one a world of loveliness!
And, frequent, when the moonlight pale
Smil'd radiance on the fragrant vale,
They lay in bliss divine and deep—
Lull'd by the songs of Sprites to sleep.
If such their love—oh! wonder not
That all beside they soon forgot;
Felt not a wish to change, or roam,
And never left their Island-home.
When loving lips and eyes are nigh,—
And hours and years mov'd swiftly on
Within the Island's sunny clime,
Where joy and love for ever shone
Upon the tearless course of time:—
And the young Maid, as Spirits fair,
Still reign'd the peerless Beauty there;—
And he—the Ocean-Spirit's Child—
For ever on his lov'd-one smil'd,
And gave unto her wondering view
Things that till then no mortal knew;—
The mysteries of Sea and Heaven,
The language of their Dwellers bright—
All to her growing sense were given;
And songs by day and dreams by night,—
By Spirits sung, by Sprites inspir'd,—
For ever her young fancy fir'd.
Theirs was a love that could not die—
All free from Sorrow's tear, or sigh;
A feeling passionate, whose power
Alloy might never prove,—
But made their happy Island-bower
A Paradise of Love!
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Of foliage by each woodland glade,
They wander'd oft, when vanish'd Day
Left Night to her sublime array
Of stars, that love her brow to press—
Each one a world of loveliness!
And, frequent, when the moonlight pale
Smil'd radiance on the fragrant vale,
They lay in bliss divine and deep—
Lull'd by the songs of Sprites to sleep.
If such their love—oh! wonder not
That all beside they soon forgot;
Felt not a wish to change, or roam,
And never left their Island-home.
| Tasso and the Sisters | |