Poem by Louisa Stuart Costello

Medjnoon in His Solitude

My ev'ry thought and wish was thine;
   Alas! thou know'st too well—
The ties that bind thy soul and mine,
  How lasting need I tell.

Oh! I have lov'd thee tenderly—
   Too dearly love thee still!
I feel that thought can never die—
   That wish no time can kill.

The life that spreads before me now
    Is one vast wilderness;
No fairy vales the scene can show
    That smile to cheer and bless.

All dreary spreads the frowning waste—
    A desert, gloomy, bare;
The rugged path, when found at last,
    Leads on but to despair!

No streams, that cool the parching breeze,
   Spring in that desert rude;
Save those the fainting Arab sees,
   That glitter to delude.

Or if some smiling view display'd
    Would tempt my hope again,
I know 'tis but an empty shade,
    And sigh to feel it vain!

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

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