Page:Rosalind and Helen (Shelley, Forman).djvu/38

36 On him, whom once 'twas paradise Even to behold, now misery lay: In his own heart 'twas merciless, To all things else none may express Its innocence and tenderness.

'Twas said that he had refuge sought In love from his unquiet thought In distant lands, and been deceived By some strange shew; for there were found, Blotted with tears as those relieved By their own words are wont to do, These mournful verses on the ground, By all who read them blotted too.

"How am I changed! my hopes were once like fire: I loved, and I believed that life was love. How am I lost! on wings of swift desire Among Heaven's winds my spirit once did move. I slept, and silver dreams did aye inspire My liquid sleep: I woke, and did approve All nature to my heart, and thought to make A paradise of earth for one sweet sake.

"I love, but I believe in love no more. I feel desire, but hope not. O, from sleep Most vainly must my weary brain implore Its long lost flattery now: I wake to weep, And sit through the long day gnawing the core Of my bitter heart, and, like a miser, keep, Since none in what I feel take pain or pleasure, To my own soul its self-consuming treasure."

He dwelt beside me near the sea: And oft in evening did we meet,