TO F——.Beloved! amid the earnest woesThat crowd around my earthly path—(Drear path, alas! where growsNot even one lonely rose)—My soul at least a solace hathIn dreams of thee, and therein knowsAn Eden of bland repose.And thus thy memory is to meLike some enchanted far-off isleIn some tumultuos sea—Some ocean throbbing far and freeWith storms—but where meanwhileSerenest skies continuallyJust o’re that one bright island smile.1845.
Beloved! amid the earnest woesThat crowd around my earthly path—(Drear path, alas! where growsNot even one lonely rose)—My soul at least a solace hathIn dreams of thee, and therein knowsAn Eden of bland repose.And thus thy memory is to meLike some enchanted far-off isleIn some tumultuos sea—Some ocean throbbing far and freeWith storms—but where meanwhileSerenest skies continuallyJust o’re that one bright island smile.
1845.