All was not falsehood in those tears of hers —
Pity her, though it were, — for thou canst love!
POET.
True ! Hate is blasphemy.
With horror's thrill, I start,
This sleeping snake to see,
Uncoil within my heart.
Oh Goddess, hear my cries,
My vow to thee is given,
By my beloved's blue eyes.
And by the azure heaven,
By yonder spark of flame,
Yon trembling pearl, the star
That beareth Venus' name.
And glistens from afar,
By Nature's glorious scheme.
The infinite grace of God,
The planet's tranquil beam
That cheers the traveler's road.
The grass, the water-course.
Woods, fields with dew impearled,
The quenchless vital force.
The sap of all the world, —
I banish from my heart
This reckless passion's ghost.
Mysterious shade, depart !
In the dark past be lost !
And thou whom once I met
