Page:Love and its hidden history.djvu/59

 Oh, in that still, mysterious hour,
 * How oft from waking dreams I start,

To find thee but a fancy flower,
 * Thou cherished idol of my heart!
 * Thou hast each thought and dream of mine,—
 * Have I in turn one thought of thine?

Forever thine my dreams will be,
 * Whatever may be my fortunes here;

I ask not love, I claim from thee
 * One only boon, a gentle tear.

May blessed visions from above
 * Play brightly round thy happy heart,

And may the beams of peace and love
 * Ne'er from thy glowing soul depart.
 * Farewell! my dreams are still of thee,—
 * Hast thou one gentle thought of me?

My joys like summer birds may fly;
 * My hopes like summer blooms depart;

But there's one flower that cannot die,—
 * Thy holy memory in my heart.

No dews that flower's cup may fill;
 * No sunlight to its leaves be given;

But it will live and flourish still,
 * As deathless as a thing of heaven.
 * My soul meets thine, unasked, unsought,—
 * Hast thou for me one tender thought?

Farewell! farewell my far-off friend,
 * Between us broad blue oceans flow,

And forests wave, and plains extend
 * And mountains in the sunlight glow.

The winds that breathe upon thy brow
 * Are not the same that breathe on mine;

The starbeams shining on thee now
 * Are not the same that on me shine;
 * But memory's spell is on me yet;
 * Canst thou the holy past forget?

The bitter tears that thou and I
 * May shed, where'er by anguish bowed,

Exhaled into the noontide sky,
 * May meet and mingle in the cloud;

And thus, my much-loved friend, though we
 * Far, far apart must live and move,

Our souls, when God shall set them free,
 * Can mingle in a world of love.
 * This were an ecstasy to me!—
 * Say, would it be a joy to thee?