For works with similar titles, see To a Friend.
TO A FRIEND.
THE year is fading; now, Beloved, to thee
A simple strain in sadness I would sing;
Though in each line a discord there should be,
Yet to thine heart it may a pleasure bring;
For tender thoughts must leave their soft impress,
While we sit thinking of the loved, the dear;
I would alone to-night such words express,
However rough, discordant they appear.
A simple strain in sadness I would sing;
Though in each line a discord there should be,
Yet to thine heart it may a pleasure bring;
For tender thoughts must leave their soft impress,
While we sit thinking of the loved, the dear;
I would alone to-night such words express,
However rough, discordant they appear.
Clouds have arisen o'er our blessed land
Since first we met—'tis scarce twelve months ago;
Their shadows rest on many a household band,
And tears, alas! how many tears now flow
For those departed in this odious war;
The good, the brave—but why should I recall?
Its blight is felt throughout the world afar,
But soon from heaven may the sunlight fall.
Since first we met—'tis scarce twelve months ago;
Their shadows rest on many a household band,
And tears, alas! how many tears now flow
For those departed in this odious war;
The good, the brave—but why should I recall?
Its blight is felt throughout the world afar,
But soon from heaven may the sunlight fall.
I cannot tell thee all I wish 'to say,
Or paint in words the pictures as they glow;
My pen will not my trembling heart obey,
But dost thou not its deepest meaning know?
Shall we not tread the lovely paths again,
Another year, the same we've trod before?
With all our pleasures there is mingled pain,
And when with thee I could endure no more.
Or paint in words the pictures as they glow;
My pen will not my trembling heart obey,
But dost thou not its deepest meaning know?
Shall we not tread the lovely paths again,
Another year, the same we've trod before?
With all our pleasures there is mingled pain,
And when with thee I could endure no more.
This strange intelligence, this mystic thread
Which few below could ever understand,
Though most by it unconsciously are led,
I own, its spells I cannot all withstand;
Debarred by fate, a voluntary vow,
Is not the feeling truly more intense?
I cannot tell thee why it is, or how,
No words convey love's meaning, no defense.
Which few below could ever understand,
Though most by it unconsciously are led,
I own, its spells I cannot all withstand;
Debarred by fate, a voluntary vow,
Is not the feeling truly more intense?
I cannot tell thee why it is, or how,
No words convey love's meaning, no defense.
Through mazes fair, Belovèd, lead me still,
O lead me safely, as a guardian, guide;
Love's sweetest vows unspoken I'd fulfill,
If I may walk forever by thy side;
I know now why I paused, in meeting thee,
To think of bowers free from pain and care,
While I was urged by duty's stern decree
Into thy presence—I the theme forbear.
O lead me safely, as a guardian, guide;
Love's sweetest vows unspoken I'd fulfill,
If I may walk forever by thy side;
I know now why I paused, in meeting thee,
To think of bowers free from pain and care,
While I was urged by duty's stern decree
Into thy presence—I the theme forbear.
The unattained—what is beyond our power,
What most we long for is the unattained—
If once possessed, would it not like a flower
Fade ere the pleasure sought we half had gained?
'Tis hard to tell, for few have ever tried
To make me truly, seriously, a friend;
If all my wealth of heart I now confide,
To thy sweet thralldom may I ever bend.
What most we long for is the unattained—
If once possessed, would it not like a flower
Fade ere the pleasure sought we half had gained?
'Tis hard to tell, for few have ever tried
To make me truly, seriously, a friend;
If all my wealth of heart I now confide,
To thy sweet thralldom may I ever bend.
It brings no joy, but yet we sometimes dream
What might have been; ah! this is useless, vain;
We only catch of blissful hours a gleam,
And thus we live and hope for them again.
How can we always, always mock, disguise
The holiest springs, and bid them cease to flow;
How seal the founts of sympathy that rise,—
Tell me, Beloved, for this I wish to know.
What might have been; ah! this is useless, vain;
We only catch of blissful hours a gleam,
And thus we live and hope for them again.
How can we always, always mock, disguise
The holiest springs, and bid them cease to flow;
How seal the founts of sympathy that rise,—
Tell me, Beloved, for this I wish to know.
Twelve months, I said, had passed since first we met;
Dost thou not know 'tis near as many years!
The place, the time, I never could forget;
Dream-like this lapse so long to-night appears:
It was electric, though a passing glance,
Which from my memory never passed away,
A revelation, though we met by chance,
Haunting my dreams by night, and, too, by day.
Dost thou not know 'tis near as many years!
The place, the time, I never could forget;
Dream-like this lapse so long to-night appears:
It was electric, though a passing glance,
Which from my memory never passed away,
A revelation, though we met by chance,
Haunting my dreams by night, and, too, by day.
And when you questioned me a year ago,
With such a sad, with such a thrilling look
Where we had met—lest that my tears might flow,
An explanation I ne'er dared to brook;
It seemed so sacred, aye, a theme so pure,
That angels only should the record keep;
And heavenward me it tended to allure,
This fount of love so fathomless, so deep.
With such a sad, with such a thrilling look
Where we had met—lest that my tears might flow,
An explanation I ne'er dared to brook;
It seemed so sacred, aye, a theme so pure,
That angels only should the record keep;
And heavenward me it tended to allure,
This fount of love so fathomless, so deep.
And now, Beloved, what power have I to make
A simple vow, with which my heart is filled?
Yet fervently I would with thee partake
Of all the joys the world has yet distilled;
The rest to Heaven; O may it bless and guide;
Vouchsafed may every earthly blessing be;
In every change, whatever may betide,
I faithfully would always cling to thee.
A simple vow, with which my heart is filled?
Yet fervently I would with thee partake
Of all the joys the world has yet distilled;
The rest to Heaven; O may it bless and guide;
Vouchsafed may every earthly blessing be;
In every change, whatever may betide,
I faithfully would always cling to thee.