Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/238

192 Thou doubt'st perchance; and once there was a time I also doubted it; and endless thought My deep affliction, and insulting crime To tell me to an end it could be brought. And yet it was! for so from God to man That is another mercy, which alone, Amidst so many woes 't is his to scan, Aids him this weary life to suffer on. Hope then, believe my words, and trust in me: Who in this world the unhappy privilege Has bought so dear to speak of misery? These many years that saw it me assiege, Saw me no day but as the plaything vile Of a dire fate, that like a shrub amain The hurricane tears up, and raised awhile It fiercely dashes to the earth again. I know it true, against the blows of fate, When that against ourselves they only glance, The firm heart shielded can withstand its hate; But so it is not oft: and thou, perchance, Mayst think I never one have lost I loved More than my life. If sorrow will give truce Thee for a moment, turn thine eyes disproved To an unhappy orphan, weak, recluse,