 | Lines in Pleasant Places |  |
180
MY EARLY LOVE.
Sweet effigy of one remote,
'Neath brighter, fairer skies than ours,
'Mid atmospheres that round thee float
Through old Seville's enchanted bowers.
'Neath brighter, fairer skies than ours,
'Mid atmospheres that round thee float
Through old Seville's enchanted bowers.
Thy face restores those golden times
When, by thy side, in tranquil weather,
We sung our songs and read our rhymes
In sweetest harmony together.
When, by thy side, in tranquil weather,
We sung our songs and read our rhymes
In sweetest harmony together.
Thine eyes, upturned with love to mine,
Thrilled me with feeling true and tender;
They seemed like lights upon a shrine,
Illuming with a gentle splendor;—
Thrilled me with feeling true and tender;
They seemed like lights upon a shrine,
Illuming with a gentle splendor;—
And from the bright pellucid beam
That flashed in their resplendent glory,
I caught the flame that lit my dream—
A chapter of the same old story!
That flashed in their resplendent glory,
I caught the flame that lit my dream—
A chapter of the same old story!
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Thy lips, twin rosebuds, breathing sweet,
Bewitched me with their ripe caressing;
I placed my heart beneath thy feet,
And time was joy, and life was blessing.
Bewitched me with their ripe caressing;
I placed my heart beneath thy feet,
And time was joy, and life was blessing.
That brow, the throne of sovereign mind,
Lies calm as summer lake at even,
Reflecting in its field refined
The beauties of the over-heaven.
Lies calm as summer lake at even,
Reflecting in its field refined
The beauties of the over-heaven.
I lived in bliss—a halcyon craze;
Ah, sad the hour of truth's unsealing!
Hope vanished like a morning haze,
And left me but the pain of feeling.
Ah, sad the hour of truth's unsealing!
Hope vanished like a morning haze,
And left me but the pain of feeling.
A dream, a vision of the night,
A fond illusion, tinged with roses—
All with the morning taking flight,
That memory alone discloses.
A fond illusion, tinged with roses—
All with the morning taking flight,
That memory alone discloses.
Hers not the fault, nor mine the fault,
But inauspicious fortune, rather,
Fate's mandate bade proceedings halt,
And that same fate my darling's father!
But inauspicious fortune, rather,
Fate's mandate bade proceedings halt,
And that same fate my darling's father!
He loved me not, and when aware
Of what comprised the “situation,”
He drove us to supreme despair
By his tempestuous objurgation.
Of what comprised the “situation,”
He drove us to supreme despair
By his tempestuous objurgation.
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He vowed he'd make my love a nun,
And me—the thought e'en now amazes!—
Should I across his hawser run,
He swore he'd wallop me like blazes!
And me—the thought e'en now amazes!—
Should I across his hawser run,
He swore he'd wallop me like blazes!
Thus pressed, were we compelled to part
By that old pirate's interdiction;
And this true story of the heart
May waken tears at my affliction.
By that old pirate's interdiction;
And this true story of the heart
May waken tears at my affliction.
| Lines in Pleasant Places | |