Poetical Sketches With other poems. By Alaric A. Watts. Fourth Edition. Illustrated with engravings from designs by T. Stothard, R. A. and W. Nesfield |
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Poetical Sketches | ||
69
STANZAS.
FROM THE ITALIAN.
I
Yes! Pride of soul shall nerve me now,To think of thee no more;
And coldness steel the heart and brow
That passion swayed before!
Think'st thou that I will share thy breast,
Whilst dwells a fondlier cherished guest
Deep in its inmost core?
No;—by my hopes of Heaven, I'll be
All—all—or nothing unto thee!
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II
Thy hand hath oft been clasped in mine,—Fondly, since first we met;
My lip hath even been pressed to thine—
In greeting wild;—but yet,
Lightly avails it, now, to tell
Of moments only loved too well—
Joys I would fain forget,
Since Memory's star can ill control
The moonless midnight of my soul!
III
But I'll reproach thee not;—Farewell!Whilst yet I'm somewhat free,
'Twere better far to break the spell
That binds my soul to thee,
Than wait till Time each pulse shall lend
A strength that will not let it bend
To Reason's stern decree:
Since Fate hath willed that we must part,
'Twere better now to brave the smart.
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IV
Not seldom is the soul depressedWhilst tearless is the eye;
For there are woes that wring the breast
When Feeling's fount is dry;—
Sorrows that do not fade with years,
But—dwelling all too deep for tears—
Rankle eternally!—
Such now as in my bosom swell,
Read thou in this wild word,—Farewell!
Poetical Sketches | ||