SOLE partner of my heart! remov'd from all,
Here on the lonely shore to thee I call;
The waves which raise their voices to the sky,
Bear on the sound, and cannot drown my cry;
The rocks still echo to thy well-known name,
And Heaven and earth shall listen to the same.
My strains wake not with morn, nor die with day,
But lonely night still hears the mourner play:
And if my wearied hand forsake the strain,
The breeze takes up the mournful lay again.
Immortal as my soul, the song shall be,
Tho' lasting only as my love for thee.
How to my heart did all creation speak!
But now my visions fade, my dreams are weak--
My thought, my fancy, once so bright, are fled,
And Heav'n's own beauties die now thou art dead.
And when, o'ercome by solitude, I fly
To crowds, and strive to banish agony,
Their smiles send back my sorrow to my heart,
And, doubly chill'd, for loneliest haunts I part;
There, bending underneath my load, I groan,
Stretch'd on the ground, unpitied and alone.
'Twas yesternight that I laid down to weep,
But conquer'd by my sorrow, sunk to sleep,
When by my side thy form came hov'ring near,
And utter'd accents which I rush'd to hear;
Curse on my joy!--for waking reason gave
Sorrow to me, and to thyself the grave.
From that high rock where I with thee have stood,
And with poetic rapture mark'd the flood,
Watching the waves as they leap'd up the shore,
Retreating only to advance the more,
And whisper'd each emotion in that ear,
Patient alike my joys and griefs to hear,
I thought that I perceiv'd upon the wave
Thy form, which then a cry for succour gave;
Downwards I dash'd upon the sea to clasp
Eurydice, but ocean mock'd my grasp,
And spurn'd me, senseless, to the rocky shore,
Not kind enough to bid me live no more.
How gladly would I turn Ixion's wheel,
And court the thirst that Tantalus must feel,
Could I but know thee near;--it cannot be--
I must gain Paradise to gain Eurydice.
O that the Gods would yield a milder doom
To those who give themselves an early tomb!
Orpheus must yet live on, if life it is,
When d**h is thine, remembrance only his.