THOU wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine ---
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On! on!" --- but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
"No more --- no more --- no more ---"
(Such language holds the solemn sea To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, Or the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams ---
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.