 | [Poems by Payne in] John Howard Payne ... his life and writings |  |
335
TO MISS O'NEIL, THE ACTRESS.
[_]
Written after sleeping in the room she had occupied the night before. Waterford, Ireland, July, 1814.
Oh, deep was the gloom which my spirits deprest,
Till each object around breath'd the joy of the past;
And the charm of that room lull'd my sorrows to rest,
As pure as the bosom which beat in it last!
Till each object around breath'd the joy of the past;
And the charm of that room lull'd my sorrows to rest,
As pure as the bosom which beat in it last!
Then my proud love exulted. It felt that the hour
Which succeeds common pleasure, is shrouded in woe,
But gloried in owning the sway of a power
Whose remembrance alone can such comfort bestow!
Which succeeds common pleasure, is shrouded in woe,
But gloried in owning the sway of a power
Whose remembrance alone can such comfort bestow!
'Twas a feeling extatic, I blest its control;
And your image, still beaming on memory's gaze,
Sheds a twilight of joy on my desolate soul,
More soft, though less dear, than the noon of its blaze!
And your image, still beaming on memory's gaze,
Sheds a twilight of joy on my desolate soul,
More soft, though less dear, than the noon of its blaze!
| [Poems by Payne in] John Howard Payne ... his life and writings | |