"My sole resources in the path I trod
"Were these—my bark—my sword—my love—my God!
"The last I left in youth!—He leaves me now—
"And Man but works his will to lay me low.
"I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer
"Wrung from the coward crouching of despair,
"It is enough—I breathe—and I can bear.
"My sword is shaken from the worthless hand
"That might have better kept so true a brand;
"My bark is sunk or captive—but my love— 1090
"For her in sooth my voice would mount above:
"Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind—
"And this will break a heart so more than kind,
"And blight a form—till thine appeared, Gulnare!
"Mine eye ne'er asked if others were as fair."
"Thou lov'st another then?—but what to me
"Is this—'tis nothing—nothing e'er can be:
"But yet—thou lov'st—and—Oh! I envy those
"Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose,
"Who never feel the void—the wandering thought 1100
"That sighs o'er visions—such as mine hath wrought."