Poem by Louisa Stuart Costello

Lines (Oft on that latest star of purest light)

Oft on that latest star of purest light,
   That hovers on the verge of morning gray,
I gaze, and think of eyes that gleam'd as bright,
   As fondly linger'd, and yet pass’d away.

While this true heart in every throb can tell
  'Tis changeless since the first fond hour we met—
While at thy name it wakes, as to a spell,
   I feel 'tis not in nature to forget!

Thou canst not have forgot the tender hour
  When we our parting tears together shed;
Thou canst not have forgot the fading flower
  That ask'd thy hand to raise its drooping head.

Thy voice, thy looks, thy sighs, too truly spoke—
  Oh! how could they deceive thyself and me?
No! death alone the bond of truth has broke,
   And cast oblivion on the world and thee!

1. The Return to Paraclete
2. Song (I will not ask one glance from thee)
3. November Fifth
4. Song (When others saw thee gay and vain)
5. Lines (I cannot sleep—my nights glide on)

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