Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LINES WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER PARTING FROM A LADY, by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES



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LINES WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER PARTING FROM A LADY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: She is gone! The occasion for ever is past!
Last Line: On delusion my raptures arose!
Subject(s): Absence; Angels; Love - Loss Of; Separation; Isolation


SHE is gone! The occasion for ever is past!
How each step, as it brought me too near to the last,
Still gave a new rend to my heart!
'Three moments to fly,' to my bosom I said,
'Three moments, and then the occasion is fled,
The concern of thy life to impart!'

Woe is me! She is gone! My too fluttering breast,
That scarce knew what 'twas doing, the words half expressed,
And 'Be mine' on my tongue died away!
'Be mine!': at the thought the tear stood in my eye;
And confused as I was, she perchance knew not why,
Came the time she no longer might stay!

She is gone, and she knows not the pangs that I feel!
Perhaps, if she did, the dear angel might heal
The wounds that her beauties have made!
She might smile!—By the gods, how I'd bless her dear smile;
She might say, 'As your words seem devoid of all guile,
I will trust I shall not be betrayed!'

'By the Father of Heav'n,' from my heart I'd reply,
'If all that I speak, that I write, look, or sigh,
Is as warm as the love in my breast,
May my right hand its office forget, and my truth
Ne'er again be believed, but the bud of my youth
With infamy wither oppressed!'

She is gone! Had she heard me thus utter the vow,
Perchance she had deigned a kind look to bestow,
And a tear had returned to mine!
Her kind heart with pity had viewed my distress,
And, like angels, enjoying the pleasure to bless,
Perchance she had said, 'I'll be thine!'

'I'll be thine!' O what rapturous accents to me!
Tears had gushed from mine eyes, and I'd fall'n on my knee,
And blessed her a thousand times o'er!
Perdition revenge me, if ever my voice,
Or my heart, for the kindness to me in her choice,
Forgot the dear maid to adore!

But she's gone! Where, O where am I straying? I dream!
O fancy, with what airy plans dost thou teem!
She is gone, and has heard not my woes!
She is gone, and it was not my angel that smiled;
'Twas her shade my idolatrous fancy beguiled!
On delusion my raptures arose!





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