Томас Прингл (Thomas Pringle)

Maid of My Heart

Maid of my heart—a long farewell!
The bark is launch'd, the billows swell,
And the vernal gales are blowing free,
To bear me far from love and thee!

I hate Ambition's haughty name,
And the heartless pride of Wealth and Fame,
Yet now I haste through Ocean's roar
To woo them on a distant shore.

Can pain or peril bring relief
To him who bears a darker grief?
Can absence calm this feverish thrill?
—Ah, no:—for thou wilt haunt me still!

Thy artless grace, thy open truth,
Thy form that breath'd of love and youth,
Thy voice by Nature fram'd to suit
The tone of Love's enchanted lute!

Thy dimpling cheek and deep-blue eye,
Where tender thought and feeling lie!
Thine eyelid like the evening cloud
That comes the star of love to shroud!

Each witchery of soul and sense,
Enshrin'd in angel innocence,
Combin'd to frame the fatal spell—
That blest—and broke my heart—Farewell! 

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