Surrey to Geraldine
A LONE once more! — but with such deep emotion,
Waking to life a thousand hopes and fears,
Such wild distrust — such absolute devotion,
My bosom seems a dreary lake of tears; —
Tears that stern manhood long restrained from gushing,
As mountains keep a river from the sea,
Until spring's floods impetuously rushing,
Channel a bed, and set its waters free!
What mockery to all true and earnest feeling,
This fatal union of the false and fair!
Eyes, lips, and voice unmeasured bliss revealing,
With hearts whose lightness fills us with despair!
Oh God! some sorrows of our wondrous being,
A patient mind can partly clear away;
Ambition cools when fortune's gifts are fleeing,
And men grow thoughtful round a brother's clay; —
But to what end this waste of noble passion?
This wearing of a truthful heart to dust —
Adoring slaves of humor, praise, or fashion,
The vain recipients of a boundless trust?
Come home, fond heart, cease all instinctive pleading,
As the dread fever of insane desire,
To some dark gulf thy warm affections leading,
When love must long survive, though faith expire!
Though wonted glory from the earth will vanish,
And life seem desolate and hope beguile,
Love's cherished dream learn steadfastly to banish,
Till death thy spirit's conflict reconcile!
Waking to life a thousand hopes and fears,
Such wild distrust — such absolute devotion,
My bosom seems a dreary lake of tears; —
Tears that stern manhood long restrained from gushing,
As mountains keep a river from the sea,
Until spring's floods impetuously rushing,
Channel a bed, and set its waters free!
What mockery to all true and earnest feeling,
This fatal union of the false and fair!
Eyes, lips, and voice unmeasured bliss revealing,
With hearts whose lightness fills us with despair!
Oh God! some sorrows of our wondrous being,
A patient mind can partly clear away;
Ambition cools when fortune's gifts are fleeing,
And men grow thoughtful round a brother's clay; —
But to what end this waste of noble passion?
This wearing of a truthful heart to dust —
Adoring slaves of humor, praise, or fashion,
The vain recipients of a boundless trust?
Come home, fond heart, cease all instinctive pleading,
As the dread fever of insane desire,
To some dark gulf thy warm affections leading,
When love must long survive, though faith expire!
Though wonted glory from the earth will vanish,
And life seem desolate and hope beguile,
Love's cherished dream learn steadfastly to banish,
Till death thy spirit's conflict reconcile!
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