 | Impressions of Italy and Other Poems |  |
136
THE BIRTH OF LOVE.
What mean they—those who speak of Love
As having reigned throughout all years;
Created by the Heaven above,
In one bright birth with yonder spheres?
As having reigned throughout all years;
Created by the Heaven above,
In one bright birth with yonder spheres?
It could not be! 'twas with thy birth
Alone the Heavenly power was born:
It came alone—with thee to Earth,
And ye had one sweet natal morn!
Alone the Heavenly power was born:
It came alone—with thee to Earth,
And ye had one sweet natal morn!
Ah! me—how could they dare pretend—
'Twas passion that they felt of old;
Ere Nature to the world did lend
Thee—paragon of matchless mould?
'Twas passion that they felt of old;
Ere Nature to the world did lend
Thee—paragon of matchless mould?
137
How jealous-angry feel I now
'Gainst all that ever dared to think
The Fates could thus on them bestow
That costly cup—'tis Heaven to drink!
'Gainst all that ever dared to think
The Fates could thus on them bestow
That costly cup—'tis Heaven to drink!
How jealous-angry do I feel
'Gainst all that ever dared to dream
That Rapture fate to them could deal,
Unless a faint Prophetic gleam!
'Gainst all that ever dared to dream
That Rapture fate to them could deal,
Unless a faint Prophetic gleam!
A faint prophetic glimpse and gleam
Of an Emotion yet to be—
For surely such it well might seem—
How could they love that ne'er saw Thee?
Of an Emotion yet to be—
For surely such it well might seem—
How could they love that ne'er saw Thee?
A vague, mysterious, dubious sense—
Of a deep feeling yet unknown—
While hung the world in strange suspense—
Ere that bright mystery's truth was shown!
Of a deep feeling yet unknown—
While hung the world in strange suspense—
Ere that bright mystery's truth was shown!
138
A dim and dreamy ante-past
Of that—they were not doomed to know,
Yet happy in the faint light cast—
Thus—o'er their dreary path below!
Of that—they were not doomed to know,
Yet happy in the faint light cast—
Thus—o'er their dreary path below!
But Love, in all its truth and might,
Was never known nor felt before—
Without the Sun could they have light?
Without the Sea its pearly store?
Was never known nor felt before—
Without the Sun could they have light?
Without the Sea its pearly store?
No! think it not—'tis false—'tis vain;
None—none were ever loved but thee;
And, Idol of my heart and brain,
None shall dare love thee now—but me.
None—none were ever loved but thee;
And, Idol of my heart and brain,
None shall dare love thee now—but me.
| Impressions of Italy and Other Poems | |