XIII.
AAND, well-belovëd, is this all, this all?Gone, like a vapour which the potent mornKills, and in killing glorifies! I callThrough the lone night for thee, my dear first-bornSoul-fellow! but my heart vibrates in vain.Ah! well I know, and often fancy formsThe weather-blown churchyard where thou art lain—The churchyard whistling to the frequent storms.But down the valley, by the river side,Huge walnut-trees—bronze-foliaged, motionlessAs leaves of metal—in their shadows hideWarm nests, low music, and true tenderness.But thou, betrothed! art far from me, from me.O heart! be merciful—I loved him utterly.
AAND, well-belovëd, is this all, this all?Gone, like a vapour which the potent mornKills, and in killing glorifies! I callThrough the lone night for thee, my dear first-bornSoul-fellow! but my heart vibrates in vain.Ah! well I know, and often fancy formsThe weather-blown churchyard where thou art lain—The churchyard whistling to the frequent storms.But down the valley, by the river side,Huge walnut-trees—bronze-foliaged, motionlessAs leaves of metal—in their shadows hideWarm nests, low music, and true tenderness.But thou, betrothed! art far from me, from me.O heart! be merciful—I loved him utterly.
AAND, well-belovëd, is this all, this all?Gone, like a vapour which the potent mornKills, and in killing glorifies! I callThrough the lone night for thee, my dear first-bornSoul-fellow! but my heart vibrates in vain.Ah! well I know, and often fancy formsThe weather-blown churchyard where thou art lain—The churchyard whistling to the frequent storms.But down the valley, by the river side,Huge walnut-trees—bronze-foliaged, motionlessAs leaves of metal—in their shadows hideWarm nests, low music, and true tenderness.But thou, betrothed! art far from me, from me.O heart! be merciful—I loved him utterly.
A