SHE has shone, as glows Dawn's fairest blush, On the Night of my sorrow: She has gone as goes Eve's rarest flush That scarce hints a bright morrow. And behind her remains a bequest Like a June day's spent story, The reminder of pains that she blest With bright Noon rays of glory. Low tones came like Music's rare spell To soothe sad emotion, No moans from light zephyr e'er fell More smooth on mad Ocean: Then a rush of meet words filled my breast For a time with strange yearning, Like the gush of sweet birds who to rest With soft chime are returning. Pain and anguish I woo if they send her In light so Elysian, Fain I'd languish anew to engender New sight of the vision! Each look, if revived nevermore, Each tone if it perish, In the book where is hived a sweet store Fond Memory will cherish. |