With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence—o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
Condemned whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more.
Let no one be willing to speak ill of the absent.
Days of absence, sad and dreary,
Clothed in sorrow's dark array,—
Days of absence, I am weary;
She I love is far away.
All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere.
Cassius and Brutus were the more distinguished for that very circumstance that their portraits were absent.
'Tis said that absence conquers love;
But oh! believe it not.
I've tried, alas! its power to prove,
But thou art not forgot.
Since you have waned from us,
Fairest of women!
I am a darkened cage
Songs cannot hymn in.
My songs have followed you,
Like birds the summer;
Ah! bring them back to me,
Swiftly, dear comer!
Seraphim,
Her to hymn.
Might leave their portals;
And at my feet learn
The harping of mortals!
ACACIA
A great acacia, with its slender trunk
And overpoise of multitudinous leaves,
(In which a hundred fields might spill their dew
And intense verdure, yet find room enough)
Stood reconciling all the place with green.
Light-leaved acacias, by the door,
Stood up in balmy air,
Clusters of blossomed moonlight bore.
And breathed a perfume rare.
Our rocks are rough, but smiling there
Th' acacia waves her yellow hair,
Lonely and sweet, nor loved the less
For flow'ring in a wilderness.
ACCIDENT
unexpected a visit?
Our wanton accidents take root, and grow
To vaunt themselves God's laws.
Nothing under the sun is accidental, least of all that of which the intention is so clearly evident.
