Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/190

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186
THE POET LOVERS.

Bright dreams and lovely visions, ye are gone!
My once high heart lies burnt upon your shrine!
Oh, mockery! that I should deem that one
Of truth and purity could e'er be mine!

"Ah! glorious aspirations, where are ye?
Oh, radiant hopes and blest, where have ye flown?
Oh, heart! most mighty heart, once proud and free?
Oh, starry dream of love? all gone! all gone!
A dumb, cold, aching hollow is your grave—
No beautiful emotion there doth dwell!
The holiest, highest love that man e'er gave
I lost when I lost thee, oh, false Adel!

"But shall I mourn thee or thy treachery?
Am I a woman to bewail my fate?
Shall I sigh over this great misery,
And of my sorrow piteously prate?
No! every tone shall freeze like dropping ice,
And she shall shrink from my cold, steady eye,
And dainty scorn ray chosen words shall spice,
While mockery upon my lip doth lie!"

Gorgeous and glowing, from the silver lamp
Depending from the ceiling, fell the light
Over the luxury of that rich room,
Deepening the roses blooming in the tuft
Of the soft, yielding carpet—lighting up
With golden glory the emblazoned names
Glittering o'er the array of rare, choice books
On the dark, polished shelves—kissing the brows
Of lovely statues, smiling from each niche
Most gloriously like life—and lingering
Over rich paintings and bright, perfumed flowers
Drooping in antique vases—glowingly
The soft light flooded the magnificent scene.
Beneath the sparkling lamp the speaker stood;
The fatal missive of the gentle girl