To One in Paradise

Thou wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine⁠—
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers
And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
“On! on!”⁠—but o’er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o’er!
“No more⁠—no more⁠—no more”⁠—
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams⁠—
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams!

Alas! for that accursèd time
They bore thee o’er the billow,
From love to titled age and crime,
And an unholy pillow!⁠—
From me, and from our misty clime,
Where weeps the silver willow!