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To wean me from mine anguish here.
To bear, forgiving and forgiven :
Be silent, thou once soothing strain, Or I must flee from hence ; for, oh!
I dare not trust those sounds again. To me they speak of brighter days
But lull the chords ! for now, alas ! I must not think, I may not gaze
On what I am-on what I was. The voice that made those sounds more sweet
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled ; And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead ! Yes, Thyrza ! yes, they breathe of thee,
Beloved dust! since dust thou art ; And all that once was harmony
Is worse than discord to my heart ! 'Tis silent all! but on my ear
The well-remember'd echoes thrill; I hear a voice I would not hear,
A voice that now might well be still, Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake:
Even slumber owns its gentle tone, Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown. Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
Then turn'd from earth its tender beam. But he, who through life's dreary way
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
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 form’d 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
Like roses o’er a sepulchre.
Dispel awhile the sense of ill,
The heart—the heart is lonely still !
It soothed to gaze upon the sky;
For then I deem'd the heavenly 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 gleam'd upon her grave! When stretch'd 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 ! My Thyrza's pledge in better days,
When love and life alike were new ! How different now thou meet'st my gaze !
How tinged by time with sorrow's hue ! The heart that gave itself with thee
Is silent-ah, were mine as still !
It feels, it sickens with the chill.
Though painful, welcome to my breast !
Or break the heart to which thou 'rt prest ! Time tempers love, but not removes ;
More hallow'd when its hopes are fled :
As aught of mortal birth;
And form so soft, and charms so rare,
Too soon return'd to earth!
In carelessness or mirth,
Nor gaze upon the spot ;
So I behold them not:
Like common earth can rot;
As fervently as thou,
And canst not alter now.
Nor falsehood disavow:
The worst can be but mine :
Shall never more be thine.
Nor need I to repine
That all those charms have passed away;
Must fall the earliest prey ;
The leaves must drop away:
Than see it pluck'd to-day ;
To see thy beauties fade;
Had worn a deeper shade.
Extinguish'd, not decay'd;
My tears might well be shed,
One vigil o'er thy bed;
Uphold thy drooping head;
Though thou hast left me free,
Than thus remember thee!