"An hour from thee—
"A single moment—were Eternity.
"When thou art gone—alas? what can I find
"To fill the dreadful vacuum of mind?
"A thought, a feeling that may yield relief
"And, like a pitying angel, soothe my grief?
"Yes—but one thought, one feeling shall be there—
"Tis more to name it than my spirit dare—
"The doubt—th' uncertain moments which will bring
"Pangs that have deadliest poison in their sting—
"The dubious hour—the fear of losing thee—
"The pain—the parting—no—it cannot be:
"Why shouldst thou leave me on this stormy night,
"And, like yon heaven, deprive my soul of light?
"Alas! when thou art gone, its latest ray,
"Its brightest, warmest beam, will melt away.
"Why o'er the waters should my love career?
"Thy home's my bosom—come, and rest thee here!
"Ah! yet, before thy rash resolve be made,
"Ere of the truth my spirit is afraid,
"Let me once warn thee that our doom so bright
"May darkly end—as darkly speeds the night.
"But now the moon shone fair in yonder sky;
"Like her, our hopes were fair and far more high—
"The tempest's wing has veiled her silver brow;
"Thus fear is gathering o'er me, round me now.
"Turn not aside from me that brow divine,
"That gaze where I must read the lot that's mine—
"Nay—I will cling to thee—O ! tear me not
"From thy embrace—is all, is all forgot?
"Are those fond vows which once to me were given
"Gone like thin clouds by winds for ever driven?
"Has love withdrawn at once his meteor light,
"Or why this madness - why this wish to-night—
"This wish to sever ?—is thy soul estranged
"From her it cherished,—or am I now changed?
"Well, be it so—forsake me if thou wilt,
"And mine be pangs more keen than conscious guilt!
"But ah! not now—this wrathful tempest brings
"Unerring death upon its roaring wings.
"When fortune turning from our path away
"Flings o'er our spirits but a darker day;
"When parting Hope no promise leaves behind
"To cheer the murky midnight of the mind;
"If then this cold world force our souls to part
"Breaking this fragile, this devoted heart;
"If from the gathered storm-cloud then the bands
"Of demons flash, like meteors red, their brands,
"Let the wild tempest burst; and if one cry
"Rush from our anguished bosoms to the sky—
"That wail of woe, if we of Fate complain,
"Shall rise with justice, though it rise in vain.
"But now to sever, even unbidden thus,
"Who dreams how long ?—ah! no—'tis not for us—
"My fond entreaties shall thy purpose shake,
"This heart no parting of to-night shall break."