Poems (Welby)/The Last Interview

by Amelia Welby

THE LAST INTERVIEW.

Here, in this lonely bower where first I won thee,
 I come, beloved, beneath the moon's pale ray,
To gaze, once more, through struggling tears upon thee,
 And then to bear my broken heart away;
I dare not linger near thee as a brother,
 I feel my burning heart would still be thine;
How could I hope my passionate thoughts to smother;
While yielding all the sweetness to another,
      That should be mine!

But fate hath willed it; the decree is spoken;
 Now life may lengthen out its weary chain;
For, reft of thee, its loveliest links are broken;
 May we but clasp them all in Heaven again!
Yes, thou wilt there be mine; in yon blue heaven
 There are sweet meetings of the pure and fond;
O joys unspeakable to such are given,
When the sweet ties of love, that here are riven,
      Unite beyond.

A glorious charm from Heaven thou dost inherit;
 The gift of angels unto thee belongs;
Then breathe thy love in music, that thy spirit
 May whisper to me through thine own sweet songs;
And though my coming life may soon resemble
 The desert-spots through which my steps will flee,
Though round thee then wild worshipers assemble,
My heart will triumph if thine own but tremble
      Still true to me.

Yet, not when on our bower the light reposes
 In golden glory, wilt .thou sigh for me,
Not when the young bee seeks the crimson roses
 And the far sunbeams tremble o'er the sea;
But when at eve the tender heart grows fonder,
 And the full soul with pensive love is fraught,
Then with wet lids o'er these sweet paths thou 'lt wander,
And, thrilled with love, upon my memory ponder
      With tender thought.

And when at times thy bird-like voice entrances
 The listening throng with some enchanting lay,
If I am near thee, let thy heavenly glances
 One gentle message to my heart convey;
I ask but this—a happier one has taken
 From my lone life the charm that made it dear;
I ask but this, and promise thee unshaken
To meet that look of love—but O! 't will waken
      Such raptures here!

And now farewell! farewell! I dare not lengthen
 These sweet sad moments out; to gaze on thee
Is bliss indeed, yet it but serves to strengthen
 The love that now amounts to agony;
This is our last farewell, our last fond meeting;
 The world is wide, and we must dwell apart;
My spirit gives thee, now, its last wild greeting,
With lip to lip, while pulse to pulse is beating,
      And heart to heart.

Farewell! farewell! our dream of bliss is over,
 All, save the memory of our plighted love;
I now must yield thee to thy happier lover,
 Yet, O remember, thou art mine above!
'T is a sweet thought, and, when by distance parted,
 ^T will lie upon our hearts a holy spell;
But the sad tears beneath thy lids have started,
And I—alas! we both are broken-hearted—
      Dearest, farewell!