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TO AN IDEAL.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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145

TO AN IDEAL.

I sit within my chamber's quiet stillness,
Thinking sweet thoughts, dreaming sweet dreams of thee,
Caring not for the darkness or the chillness,—
Thy fervent love is light and warmth to me!
The river rolls in waves of starrys plendor,
Following its shining pathway to the sea,
Now silent, now with song subdued and tender,
As flows the tide of my deep love to thee.
I love thee! never have the words been spoken
By mortal lips, with such a passionate thrill,
The tie that binds our hearts can ne'er be broken,
The harp love's hand hath swept will ne'er be still!
The soiling dust that dims earth's brightest splendor,
Clouds not the stars, which far above it shine,
So time and change, through dimming love less tender,
Reach not to the pure heaven of thine and mine!

146

Thy thrilling kiss upon my lips is lying,
Thy clasping arm is still around me thrown,
While thy dear voice falls like a prophesying
Upon my heart,—“My best beloved—my own!”
I have enough of bliss;—my full heart trembles
Like a bowed lily over-brimmed with dew,
Or haply in its deep delight resembles
A day-star drowning in the morning's blue