Love’s Apparition and Evanishment

       &nbsp       &nbspLike a lone Arab, old and blind,

       &nbsp       &nbspSome caravan had left behind,

       &nbsp       &nbspWho sits beside a ruin'd well,

       &nbsp       &nbspWhere the shy sand-asps bask and swell;

And now he hangs his agéd head aslant,

And listens for a human sound—in vain!

And now the aid, which Heaven alone can grant,

Upturns his eyeless face from Heaven to gain;—

Even thus, in vacant mood, one sultry hour,

Resting my eye upon a drooping plant,

With brow low-bent, within my garden-bower,

I sate upon the couch of camomile;

And—whether 'twas a transient sleep, perchance,

Flitted across the idle brain, the while

I watch'd the sickly calm with aimless scope,

In my own heart; or that, indeed a trance,

Turn'd my eye inward—thee, O genial Hope,

Love's elder sister! thee did I behold,

Drest as a bridesmaid, but all pale and cold,

With roseless cheek, all pale and cold and dim,

       &nbspLie lifeless at my feet!

And then came Love, a sylph in bridal trim,

       &nbspAnd stood beside my seat;

She bent, and kiss'd her sister's lips,

       &nbspAs she was wont to do;—

Alas! 'twas but a chilling breath

Woke just enough of life in death

       &nbspTo make Hope die anew.



L'ENVOY



In vain we supplicate the Powers above;

There is no resurrection for the Love 30

That, nursed in tenderest care, yet fades away

In the chill'd heart by gradual self-decay.