Page:Poems Rice.djvu/158

Shall we not tread the lovely paths again,
 Another year, the same we've trod before?
With all our pleasures there is mingled pain,
 And when with thee I could endure no more.

This strange intelligence, this mystic thread
 Which few below could ever understand,
Though most by it unconsciously are led,
 I own, its spells I cannot all withstand;
Debarred by fate, a voluntary vow,
 Is not the feeling truly more intense?
I cannot tell thee why it is, or how,
 No words convey love's meaning, no defense.

Through mazes fair, Belovèd, lead me still,
 O lead me safely, as a guardian, guide;
Love's sweetest vows unspoken I'd fulfill,
 If I may walk forever by thy side;
I know now why I paused, in meeting thee,
 To think of bowers free from pain and care,
While I was urged by duty's stern decree
 Into thy presence—I the theme forbear.

The unattained—what is beyond our power,
 What most we long for is the unattained—
If once possessed, would it not like a flower
 Fade ere the pleasure sought we half had gained?
'Tis hard to tell, for few have ever tried
 To make me truly, seriously, a friend;
If all my wealth of heart I now confide,
 To thy sweet thralldom may I ever bend.