, and cried,
Beautiful vision, loved, adored, in vain, 10
Farewell--farewell, for ever!
How sincere,
How pure was my heart's love! oh! was it not?
Yes; Heaven can witness, now my brow is changed,
And I look back, and almost seem to hear
The music of the days when we were young,
Like music in a dream, ere we awoke,
Oh! witness, Heaven, how fervent, how sincere--
How fervent, and how tender, and how pure, 19
Was my fond heart's first love!
The summer eve
Shone, as with sympathy of sweet farewell,
Upon thy Tor, and solitary mound,
Glaston, as rapidly I passed along,
Borne from those scenes for ever, while with song
The sorrows of the hour and way beguiled.
So passed the days of youth, which ne'er return,
Tearful; for worldly fortune smiled too late,
And the poor minstrel-boy had then no wealth,
Save such as poets dream of--love and hope. 30
At Fortune's frown, the wreath which Hope entwined
Lay withering, for the dream had been too sweet
For human life; yet never, though his love,
All his fond love, he muttered to the winds;
Though oft he strove, distempered, without joy,
To drown even the remembrance that he lived--
Never a weak complaint escaped his lip,
Save that some tender tones, as he passed on,
Died on his desultory lyre.
No more! 40
Forget the shadows of a feverish dream,
That long has passed away! Uplift the eyes
To Him who sits above the water flood,--
To Him who was, and is, and is to come!
Wrapped in the view of ages that are passed,
And marking here the record of earth's doom,
Let us, even now, think that we hear the sound--
The sound of the great flood, the peopled earth
Covering and surging in its solitude!
Let us forget the passing hour, the stir 50
Of this tumultuous scene of human things,
And bid imagination lift the veil 52
Spread o'er the rolling globe four thousand years!
The vision of the deluge! Hark--a trump!
It was the trump of the Archangel! Stern
He stands, whilst the awakening thunder rolls
Beneath his feet! Stern, and alone, he stands
Upon Imaus' height!
No vo