Verses of Feeling and Fancy Part 3

And my breast is sore with sighing.

Comfort to myself denying-- Comfort and relief denying to my soul distrest and sore; While that worst of all diseases With a pain that naught appeases Ever burns-- While a pain that grimly pleases Alway burns, Kindled by thy bright eye's beaming, By thy brilliant, blue eye's beaming, When I saw thee, saw and loved thee on that fatal eve of yore; And anon it has been living, And a blissful sadness giving While with thee,-- Mingled bliss and sadness giving While with thee; But, ah! now its woful waging, Laying waste with cruel raging This my heart, as with a vulture gnawing at its very core!

Would kind angels waft me to thee!-- Waft me for one moment to thee!

Let me gaze one moment on thee!-- But one blissful moment on thee!-- Satisfy this languid longing for the one whom I adore!

Oh! to quench this lethal longing for the one whom I adore!

The n.o.ble Woman.

A woman on an empire's throne Has sat in queenly pride, And swayed the sceptre of her power O'er land and ocean wide: A crown of gold adorned the head That held a nation's fate, And courtly knights and princely peers Did on her bidding wait.

A woman too in ancient days Has borne the warrior's brand, And by heroic deed performed Has saved her native land.

She too has sung inspiring songs, And told entrancing tales; Has softened and has swayed the mind Where bolder genius fails.

But n.o.bler far than throned queen, Or heroine of fame, Or she who by her potent pen Has won ill.u.s.trious name, Is she who seeks the needy out, Nor scorns the wretched's door, But, with compa.s.sion Christlike, loves To help the humble poor.

To a Star.

Dreary and dismal and dark Is the night of life to me, With nothing but clouds in the heaven above, Cruelly hiding the star that I love, Whose radiance was rapture to see.

While the blasts from the cold frozen North Are biting right in to my soul-- While the pitiless blasts from the bleak, barren sh.o.r.e Of the crystalline ocean incessantly roar, And the tempests that sweep from the pole.

Oh! the gloom of the dark, dreary night, Concealing the star that I love!

Oh! how bitter the anguish, bereft of its beam!

While the beings around me are such that I seem In a dungeon of demons to move.

Oh! when will the clouds clear away?

And brighten the heaven above?

Oh! when to the starry-lit realm of the sky In a golden car of thy beams shall I fly To live with the star that I love?

Veni, Vidi, Victus sum.

to ------.

Hither led by fancy's hand, Once again I seem to stand In that hall in which this eye, Blind before to beauty's ray, Lighted up in ecstasy Instantly it gazed on thee; Here too was it where this heart, Previous proof to Cupid's dart, In thy presence trembled, fell; Fearful, fluttered 'neath thy spell; All so sudden, so complete, Chronicled in words 'twere meet Such as Caesar's famous three, Which will well apply to me, If the cla.s.sic clause become,-- Veni, vidi, victus sum.

To my Couch.

When the toils of the day are done, When its trials and cares are o'er; When the forces of mind and body are run, And the heart is sore;

How welcome to me is thy rest-- The breath of approaching peace, Which soothes the soul with a prospect blest Of sweet release!

May my life be such that so At its even this comfort I'll have!

For sleep is the symbol of death, and thou Art the sign of the grave.

Separation.

Parted cruelly from thee, What, Oh! what is life to me?

'Tis the morn without the lark; It is wine without its spark.

Christmas time without its glee; Music without harmony.

New Year's eve devoid of mirth; Winter night without the hearth.

'Tis a day without the light; 'Tis a moonless, starless night.

Thorn-bush, barren of its leaf; Weeping, without its relief.

'Tis a fire, but unconsuming; Poisonous plant, but never blooming.

Ship becalmed, without its peace; Death, without its sweet release.

Treasured Memories.

The playful way thy wanton hair Was tossing in the wind; Thy girlish, vain vexation Is treasured in my mind.

Held in my heart each sacred spot, O'er which we roamed at will: The rose that bloomed upon thy breast Blooms in my memory still.

Still do I see thy sunny smile, In sportive dimples traced, Like truant beams of morning light By flitting fairies chased.

Thy merry, maiden laughter still Is ringing in my ear, As silver streams in sylvan shades Make music sweet to hear.

To ------

Fair one! embodiment of Loveliness!

Angelic beauty beams upon thy countenance, And from its image of Lucretian purity Thine inborn virtue shines divinely forth.

Thy sparkling eyes of bright cerulean blue, Rich sapphire gems, flash with Arcadian artlessness, Impelling Cupid's arrows, pa.s.sion-fraught, Discharged from bow of myrtle 'gainst my heart, Which throbs and flutters, quivering from the thrust.