That fair form sink upon my breast ;
No more of that ! Alas, I never guessed
Whither my fate was leading me.
The angry gods some victim craved, I fear,
At that ill-omened time,
Since they have punished me as for a crime.
For trying to be happy here !
MUSE.
A vision of remembered joy
Reveals itself to thee once more ;
Why f earest thou to live it o'er.
Retracing it without annoy ?
Wouldst thou coimde the truth to me,
And yet those golden days disprove ?
If fate has been unkind to thee,
Do thou no less, my friend, than she.
And smile upon thine early love.
POET.
Rather I dare to smile upon my woe.
Muse, I have said it, I would fain review
My crosses, visions, frenzy, — calmly show
The hour, place, circumstance, in order due.
'T was an autumnal evening, I recall.
Chill, gloomy ; this one brings it back again.
The murmuring wind's monotonous rise and fall
Lulled sombre care within my weary brain.
I waited at the casement for my love.
And listening in the darkness black as death.
