Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/19



Seems fading in the dim obscurity Which gathers round my fortunes.

Must we part? And is it come to this?—Oh! I have still Deem'd it enough of joy with thee to share E'en grief itself—and now—but this is vain; Alas! too deep, too fond, is woman's love, Too full of hope, she casts on troubled waves The treasures of her soul!

Oh, speak not thus! Thy gentle and desponding tones fall cold Upon my inmost heart.—I leave thee but To be more worthy of a love like thine. For I have dreamt of fame!—A few short years, And we may yet be blest.

A few short years! Less time may well suffice for death and fate To work all change on earth!—To break the ties Which early love had form'd; and to bow down Th' elastic spirit, and to blight each flower Strewn in life's crowded path!—But be it so? Be it enough to know that happiness Meets thee on other shores.

Where'er I roam Thou shalt be with my soul!—Thy soft low voice Shall rise upon remembrance, like a strain Of music heard in boyhood, bringing back Life's morning freshness.—Oh! that there should be Things, which we love with such deep tenderness, But, through that love, to learn how much of woe