"Twas but a dream!-I saw the stag leap free, Under the boughs where early birds were singing, I stood, o'ershadow'd by the greenwood tree, And heard, it seemed, a sudden bugle ringing And young leaves trembled, as, in fleet career, Flashing out joy to mine.--Yes, thou wert there, Bound to my side; and we, that met and parted, Ev'n like the mingling of sweet streams, beneath II. 'Tis past!-I wake, A captive, and alone, and far from thee, My love and friend! Yet fostering, for thy sake, By its undying fervour; and prevail, Sending a breath, as of the spring's first gale, Thro' hearts now cold; and, raising its bright face, The characters of anguish; in this trust, But all my youth's first treasures, when we meet, III. And thou too art in bonds!-yet droop thou not, Oh, my belov'd!-there is one hopeless lot, To the grave's bosom, with thy radiant brow,- Of earnest tenderness, which now, ev'n now, Seems floating thro' my soul, were music taken For ever from this world,-oh! thus forsaken, Could I bear on ?-thou liv'st, thou liv'st, thou'rt mine! With this glad thought I make my heart a shrine, And by the lamp which quenchless there shall burn, Sit, a lone watcher for the day's return. IV. And lo! the joy that cometh with the morning, I have not watch'd in vain, serenely scorning Thou has sent tidings, as of heaven.—I wait The hour, the sign, for blessed flight to thee. Oh! for the skylark's wing that seeks its mate As a star shoots!--but on the breezy sea We shall meet soon.-To think of such an hour! Will not my heart, o'erburden'd by its bliss, Faint and give way within me, as a flower Borne down and perishing by noontide's kiss? Yet shall I fear that lot?-the perfect rest, The full deep joy of dying on thy breast, Too seldom crowns with peace affection's woes. 2 |