 | The Literary Works of James Smetham |  |
246
EARLY DAWN
—LOVE AND HOPE
So ends the glory of the night,
So dreary doth the morn appear,
So pale my spirit's waning light,
So joyless to be lingering here.
So dreary doth the morn appear,
So pale my spirit's waning light,
So joyless to be lingering here.
Are stars, indeed, but dying fires?
Is dawn, indeed, so deathly cold?
Gray images of chance desires,
That perish whilst their leaves unfold?
Is dawn, indeed, so deathly cold?
Gray images of chance desires,
That perish whilst their leaves unfold?
Is all my soul's unquenchéd love
But the faint shadow of a dream?
Must all my hopes unstable prove
Uncertain bubbles of a stream?
But the faint shadow of a dream?
Must all my hopes unstable prove
Uncertain bubbles of a stream?
Shall all my heart's outgoings back
Unto their silent stream return—
No mingling waters in their track?
Dull lesson which with years I learn!
Unto their silent stream return—
No mingling waters in their track?
Dull lesson which with years I learn!
That early light repaireth not
The ending lustre of the sky;
So sadly fails my forward thought
I hope, to weep—I love, to die.
The ending lustre of the sky;
So sadly fails my forward thought
I hope, to weep—I love, to die.
Oh, inward, wasting, loving flame
That warms none other breast than mine,
Which ever burns alone, the same
In my own being's depths to shine!
That warms none other breast than mine,
Which ever burns alone, the same
In my own being's depths to shine!
247
Not here affection finds its scope,
Its heritage is fixed above.
Where shall my heart secure its hope?
When shall my spirit rest in love?
Its heritage is fixed above.
Where shall my heart secure its hope?
When shall my spirit rest in love?
1841.
| The Literary Works of James Smetham | |