 | Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] |  |
168
ASPASIA TO PERICLES.
I still would pen some hurried lines
To ask thy weal—my friend—of thee,
Although thy memory's faintest chords
May wake no thought which tells of me.
To ask thy weal—my friend—of thee,
Although thy memory's faintest chords
May wake no thought which tells of me.
Forbid that I should e'er perplex
One moment of thy bright career,
Yet pardon woman's weaker sex,
And wipe from woman's eye the tear,
One moment of thy bright career,
Yet pardon woman's weaker sex,
And wipe from woman's eye the tear,
I dreamt I saw thee wan and pale:
Ah! 'twas a dream I would forget,—
Yet still its hauntings make me quail;
My heart's pulse fails—mine eyes are wet.
Ah! 'twas a dream I would forget,—
Yet still its hauntings make me quail;
My heart's pulse fails—mine eyes are wet.
Ah! say, does pain or sorrow dwell
Around thy couch—thy peaceful hearth;
Has dire disease or phantom spell
Scattered its mildew o'er thy path?
Around thy couch—thy peaceful hearth;
Has dire disease or phantom spell
Scattered its mildew o'er thy path?
169
Yet should it be too much to ask
One line my fainting heart to cheer,
Forget the all-unwelcome task,
And be remembrance buried here!
One line my fainting heart to cheer,
Forget the all-unwelcome task,
And be remembrance buried here!
| Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] | |