My heart too firmly trusted, fondly gave Itself to all its tenderness a slave; I had no wish but thee, and only thee; I saw no joy, no hope, beyond thy smile; I knew no happiness, but only while Thy love-lit eyes were kindly turned on me. I took the tender image to my breast, I made it there a dear, a cherished guest, I laid it on the pillow of my soul; I gave it all my feeling, and around The fond idea all my heart-strings bound; In that one point I blent my being's whole. But thou hast gone, and left me here to bear The weight of loneliness; thou thinkest not, where Bright forms caress thee, of my bosom torn By thee so coldly; but I cannot rend Thy image from my heart, I cannot blend Hate with the love so long, so fondly borne. I feel my spirit falter, and my frame Trembling and faint with weakness, but the flame Of passion burns as brightly:''"I will lay My forehead on my pillow, and resign My bosom to its torture, nor repine, And let the fire consume my life away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIGNATURE OF LOVE by KAREN SWENSON THE IRISH RAPPAREES; A PEASANT BALLAD OF 1691 by CHARLES GAVAN DUFFY AN AUGUST MIDNIGHT by THOMAS HARDY CASABIANCA by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS by THOMAS MOORE THE LAIRD O' COCKPEN by CAROLINA OLIPHANT NAIRNE |