Page:Translations from Camoens; and Other Poets.pdf/21



MIDST the bitter tears that fell In anguish at my last farewell, Oh! who would dream that joy could dwell, To make that moment bright? Yet be my judge, each heart! and say, Which then could most my bosom sway, Affliction, or delight?

It was, when Hope, opprest with woes, Seemed her dim eyes in death to close, That Rapture's brightest beam arose In sorrow's darkest night. Thus, if my soul survive that hour, 'Tis that my fate o'ercame the power Of anguish with delight.

For oh! her love, so long unknown, She then confest, was all my own, And in that parting hour alone Revealed it to my sight.