 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
143
2. THE TWO LOVERS,
Dead of the Plague.
Sweetly sleep, and gently lie
On your bed of death, ye lovers!
Whilst yon Peri, of the sky,
Bearing incense from on high,
O'er your listless forms, now hovers.
On your bed of death, ye lovers!
Whilst yon Peri, of the sky,
Bearing incense from on high,
O'er your listless forms, now hovers.
Sweetly sleep, where pain shall ne'er,
With his foster-parent care,
Wing one shaft, your bliss to sever:
Sweetest sleep! when death shall mingle
Lips that shall unite forever,
Destined never to be single!
With his foster-parent care,
Wing one shaft, your bliss to sever:
Sweetest sleep! when death shall mingle
Lips that shall unite forever,
Destined never to be single!
Happy spirits, that repose,
In an union so divine;
Like the petals of the rose,
Made together, but to shine!
Life can wing no after blow,
Time shall never more oppress ye;
Feeling, with her sister, Wo,
Ne'er shall bid the tear-drop flow,
The peace, the peace of death shall bless ye.
In an union so divine;
Like the petals of the rose,
Made together, but to shine!
Life can wing no after blow,
Time shall never more oppress ye;
Feeling, with her sister, Wo,
Ne'er shall bid the tear-drop flow,
The peace, the peace of death shall bless ye.
Death, who soothes, e'en when he blights—
Death, the tender-hearted,
That still 'midst cruelty, unites
What ne'er in life was parted!
Death, the tender-hearted,
That still 'midst cruelty, unites
What ne'er in life was parted!
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