 | Studies of Sensation and Event |  |
143
A PRAYER TO A FICKLE MISTRESS.
From the depth of my gloom, to your beauty I come;
But my gaze may not brighten, as erst, at its glow:
Nor kneel may I to you all gloriously low,
Nor feel your dear hand o'er my brow softly go;
I know that you would that even now I sank dumb;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
But my gaze may not brighten, as erst, at its glow:
Nor kneel may I to you all gloriously low,
Nor feel your dear hand o'er my brow softly go;
I know that you would that even now I sank dumb;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
You would shrink, but to me, when mine eyes love did fight;
When this arm clasp'd you round, 'midst your ravishing hair,
On this bosom lolled your head, while unhidingly there,
Your face turned to mine with such restful repair;
God! then how I dived in your eyes' surging light!
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
When this arm clasp'd you round, 'midst your ravishing hair,
On this bosom lolled your head, while unhidingly there,
Your face turned to mine with such restful repair;
144
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
Never God sent the night, but I saw on my couch,
Your cheek's beautiful sleep, that I guarded supreme;
Alone would I gaze, till your soft lips would seem
There stirr'd by the mild light that round them did gleam;—
Behind that chamber's madness horror-stricken I crouch!
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
Your cheek's beautiful sleep, that I guarded supreme;
Alone would I gaze, till your soft lips would seem
There stirr'd by the mild light that round them did gleam;—
Behind that chamber's madness horror-stricken I crouch!
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
None could pity, I am hopeless! I loved you to shame;
Mine honour had been gone for one promising smile;
When your soft hair fell cool o'er my burning face, while
My brain swooned with delight 'neath its curls;— any guile
To be bless'd with thy bidding, had become my wild aim;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
Mine honour had been gone for one promising smile;
When your soft hair fell cool o'er my burning face, while
My brain swooned with delight 'neath its curls;— any guile
To be bless'd with thy bidding, had become my wild aim;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
145
Your lover is coming; I hear his wild vow!
For ever we are parting; oh! in mercy, refrain
From that acted surprise; I nor plead, nor complain;
Oh! yet say, when we loved, that thou didst not all feign,
And I'll bless thee, and pray for thee as to thee now;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
For ever we are parting; oh! in mercy, refrain
From that acted surprise; I nor plead, nor complain;
Oh! yet say, when we loved, that thou didst not all feign,
And I'll bless thee, and pray for thee as to thee now;
Lelia! once say you are sad for me.
| Studies of Sensation and Event | |