O, CLEOPATRA! fare thee well, We two can meet no more; This breaking heart alone can tell The love to thee I bore. But wear not thou the conqueror's chain Upon thy race and thee; And though we ne'er can meet again, Yet still be true to me: For I for thee have lost a throne, To wear the crown of love alone. Fair daughter of a regal line! To thraldom bow not tame; My every wish on earth was thine, My every hope the same. And I have mov'd within thy sphere, And liv'd within thy light; And oh! thou wert to me so dear, I breath'd but in thy sight! A subject world I lost for thee, For thou wert all my world to me! Then when the shriekings of the dying Were heard along the wave. Soul of my soul! I saw thee flying; I follow'd thee, to save. The thunder of the brazen prows O'er Actium's ocean rung; Fame's garland faded from my brows, Her wreath away I flung. I sought, I saw, I heard but thee: For what to love was victory? Thine on the earth, and on the throne, And in the grave, am I; And, dying, still I am thine own, Thy bleeding Antony. How shall my spirit joy to hear That thou art ever true! Nay -- weep not -- dry that burning tear, That bathes thine eyes' dark hue. Shades of my fathers! lo! I come; I hear your voices from the tomb! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM IMMORTALITY [OR, VERSE] by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR MONT DE CASSEL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: DEEDS MIGHT HAVE BEEN by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SHANAHAN'S OULD QUEEN by GERALD BRENNAN |