Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/110



—, not on earth can such love be! Though fondest friends that bear the name, Yet must our deeds by Praise and Blame Be ruled; to sovran Right and Wrong Our feelings and our thoughts belong. Were I my own, while life endures, So long were I not mine, but yours; Ours were the Dawns that sprinkle bright Yon crusted Alps with sparks of light; Ours thoughtful Eve, her single care To make some shadowy vale more fair; Ours Noon, that planes the furrowed sea; Night, one grand show for you and me.

How is it now? Fast whirling by, A pomp, a cloudy company, Sweep the dim Hours: if Love lay hand Upon a straggler of the band, It is enough,—the spirit's pride Of mastery is satisfied: The rest, as haughty as they go, Their necks to humbler service owe;