Poem by Eliza Acton

The Lover's Song

OH sooner shall yon star decline,
Which guides the wand'ring seaman's way,
Than thou shalt from the inmost shrine
Of this warm heart, be torn away:
No!-- firm, as pure, my love shall be,
Though nurs'd for ever,--silently!

In vain for me the festal hall
Displays the wine-cup's blushing hue;
And music's swell, or faint, low fall,
Echoes, the vaulted chamber through:
Alike from song, and revelry,
I sorrowing turn me, -- silently!

I gaze unmov'd, though Beauty's smile,
And Beauty's eyes, be near to bless;
I think with beating breast the while,
Of thy retiring loveliness:
And lonely, and afar from thee,
My tears fall fast but,--silently!

Ev'n when my swelling soul is full
Of those deep feelings, which arise,
When mid-night, calmly beautiful,
With starry splendour lights the skies,
O'er Nature's glorious charms I sigh,
And mourn thine absence, -- silently!

To dwell eternally apart
From thee on earth, may be my lot,
With fading brow, and with'ring heart
To linger on, where thou art not;
Yet turning, with devotion high,
To thy bright image,-- silently!--

Should it be thus,--when in the grave
My spirit finds its rest at last,
Wilt thou, who had'st no pow'r to save,
Weep for awhile o'er suff'ring past;
And sometimes, e'en when crowds are nigh,
Recall thy lost one,-- silently! 

1. Revenge
2. Nay! Take the Rose
3. The Grave
4. Venice
5. Come to My Grave

Print

1331 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version