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Till, thrilld with exquisite sensation,
My very heart would weep.
Yet, dearer lives in
One autumn day, that briefly fled,
Than all those months whose beauteous semblance
Still hovers round
Thy presence gave the charm elysian
To all that breathed around me there; And memory of it fills the vision
With hours for ever fair.
Then, though exchanged the blest creation
For tumult and the world's alloy, Thy presence still, in every station,
Makes all my sum of joy.
No fond regrets nor vagrant fancies
Shall from my bosom draw a sigh,
For scenery which the soul entrances,
while thou art by.
And oh, that day, where'er its brightness
On wilderness or city shine, My heart shall welcome in with lightness,
My Love, while thou art mine.
Do I not love thee? Yes, how well,
Thou best, thou only, Love, canst tell:
For other eyes have never seen
Nor other lips than thine can guess
Most truly, that I am not cold.
Yet now, in absence, all thou art,
Rushes afresh upon my heart,
I seem to feel thine absence more.
Shuddering I strive to pierce its shade,
By Love a very coward made;
So parted utterly we seem,
Oh, say, do wayward thoughts like these, Tender regrets, wild phantasies, And vague misgivings, ever find Unbidden entrance to thy mind ? Oh, it would absence half repay, To know my spirit held such sway O’er thine, as that thou couldst not be, Nor feel thyself, apart from me.
But absence cannot be repaid :
Brief and uncertain all to come.
Then let us not consume apart
The youth and spring-time of the heart.
Enough has absence proved thy power:
Return, and I will bless the hour
That tells me all my fears were vain,
ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT SON.
[C. J. C. ob. Jan. 1818.]
When I can trust my all with God,
In trial's fearful hour,
Bow all resign'd beneath his rod,
And bless his sparing power,
A joy springs up amid distress,
A fountain in the wilderness.