TO ONE IN PARADISE.

THOU wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine --
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrime,

All

wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.

Ah,

dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise

But

to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,

"On! on!" -- but o'er the Past
(Dim guld!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, mothionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
No more -- no more -- no more --
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder0blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And

all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams

Are

where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams --

In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.

1835.