 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
176
HOW LITTLE HAVE I KNOWN
How little have I known thy heart?
Sweet love, forgive my fears,
But when I saw my hopes depart,
I thought on thee with tears:
And deem'd that in the glare of light,
Fast fading from my view,
That all the dreams I thought so bright,
Would perish madly too.
Sweet love, forgive my fears,
But when I saw my hopes depart,
I thought on thee with tears:
And deem'd that in the glare of light,
Fast fading from my view,
That all the dreams I thought so bright,
Would perish madly too.
Sweet love, forgive, forgive the wretch,
Who torn by doubt and fear,
Still on ideal aid would catch,
And find his ruin there!
But now restored to hope, thus loved—
Without one faint regret,
We'll fly the scenes when childhood rov'd,
And dare be happy yet.
Who torn by doubt and fear,
Still on ideal aid would catch,
And find his ruin there!
But now restored to hope, thus loved—
Without one faint regret,
We'll fly the scenes when childhood rov'd,
And dare be happy yet.
Yes, let the miser tax his joy,
To fill his mouldering store—
Our bliss, ah! nothing can destroy,
For time but makes it more.
No dream of mad ambition's mine
Thine own, 'tis all I seek—
And well I ween, thy beauties shine,
Whene'er I press thy cheek.
To fill his mouldering store—
Our bliss, ah! nothing can destroy,
For time but makes it more.
No dream of mad ambition's mine
Thine own, 'tis all I seek—
And well I ween, thy beauties shine,
Whene'er I press thy cheek.
Here nature, wild, luxuriant yields,
Her fruits, an ample store:
Young Flora decks the verdant fields,
Contentment seeks no more—
And blest with thee, sweet love, I feel
That nature's wildest dress,
Could like a fairy prospect, steal
Away, life's loneliness.
Her fruits, an ample store:
177
Contentment seeks no more—
And blest with thee, sweet love, I feel
That nature's wildest dress,
Could like a fairy prospect, steal
Away, life's loneliness.
I knew thy worth, and felt the pain
Of parting thus with thee—
The hour that madden'd soul and brain,
Was that which saw me flee.
And little in that lonely hour,
My heart had hoped for this
Sweet change, when skies ordain'd to low'r,
Have turn'd to hues of bliss.
Of parting thus with thee—
The hour that madden'd soul and brain,
Was that which saw me flee.
And little in that lonely hour,
My heart had hoped for this
Sweet change, when skies ordain'd to low'r,
Have turn'd to hues of bliss.
| Lyrical and other poems | |