The happiest day --- the happiest hour My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power, I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween; But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been --- But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee? Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day --- the happiest hour Mine eyes shall see --- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power, I feel have been:
But were that hope of pride and power Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt --- that brightest hour I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy, And, as it flutter'd --- fell
An essence --- powerful to destroy A soul that knew it well.
IN the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace --- Radiant palace --- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion --- It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow,
(This --- all this --- was in the olden Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A wingéd odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tunéd law,
Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.
Assailed the monarch's high estate. (Ah, let us mourn! --- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh --- but smile no more.