The Triumph of Love By Edmond Holmes |
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 | The Triumph of Love |  |
XXVI
Dear comrades hast thou when thy life is lone,—Dear friends for comfort when thy heart is sad:—
The murmuring dove will make thy plaint her own;
The soaring lark will sing to make thee glad;
Soft on thy soul will fall the dews of night;
Radiant with hope will dawn for thee the day;
The sunset-glow will flood thy soul with light;
The wild sea-breeze will blow thy tears away.
These will befriend thee; but he loves thee best,
The hapless friend whose yearning love is vain;
Who, though he feels thy heart-throbs in his breast,
May never staunch thy wounds nor soothe their pain;
Nor hush with fond embraces thy sad sighs;
Nor dry with kisses thy tear-haunted eyes.
| The Triumph of Love | |