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But he, who through life's dreary way
Must pass, when heav'n is veiled in wrath, Will long lament the vanished ray
That scattered gladness o'er his path.
One struggle more, and I am free
From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee,
Then back to busy life again.
It suits me well to mingle now
With things that never pleased before: Though every joy is fled below,
What future grief can touch me more?
Then bring me wine, the banquet bring;
Man was not formed to live alone: I'll be that light unmeaning thing
That smiles with all, and weeps with none. It was not thus in days more dear,
It never would have been, but thou Hast fled, and left me lonely here;
Thou'rt nothing, all are nothing now.
In vain my lyre would lightly breathe!
The smile that sorrow fain would wear
But mocks the woe that lurks beneath,
Like roses o'er a sepulchre.
Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
The heart-the heart is lonely still!
On many a lone and lovely night
It soothed to gaze upon the sky; For then I deemed the heav'nly light
Shone sweetly on thy pensive eye:
And oft I thought at Cynthia's noon,
When sailing o'er the Ægean wave, “ Now Thyrza gazes on that moon—"
Alas, it gleamed upon her grave!
When stretched on fever's sleepless bed,
And sickness shrunk my throbbing veins, “ 'Tis comfort still,” I faintly said,
“ That Thyrza cannot know my pains :" Like freedom to the time-worn slave,
A boon 'tis idle then to give, Relenting Nature vainly gave
My life, when Thyrza ceased to live!