Love Beatified.
LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay.On his earth-stainèd brow and sightless eyesStill shone the splendours of our Paradise.Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean,And joys alone I saw, that might have been.It never seemed our Love could shew so fairAs that dead Presence, shrined in glory there.I would not have our Love to live again,And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.—Oh better far this blessèd death, and rest!Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breastAnd ever shall, for this I know is best!
LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay.On his earth-stainèd brow and sightless eyesStill shone the splendours of our Paradise.Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean,And joys alone I saw, that might have been.It never seemed our Love could shew so fairAs that dead Presence, shrined in glory there.I would not have our Love to live again,And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.—Oh better far this blessèd death, and rest!Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breastAnd ever shall, for this I know is best!
LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay.
LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,
LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,
Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay.
On his earth-stainèd brow and sightless eyesStill shone the splendours of our Paradise.
On his earth-stainèd brow and sightless eyes
Still shone the splendours of our Paradise.
Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean,And joys alone I saw, that might have been.
Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean,
And joys alone I saw, that might have been.
It never seemed our Love could shew so fairAs that dead Presence, shrined in glory there.
It never seemed our Love could shew so fair
As that dead Presence, shrined in glory there.
I would not have our Love to live again,And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.—
I would not have our Love to live again,
And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.—
Oh better far this blessèd death, and rest!Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breastAnd ever shall, for this I know is best!
Oh better far this blessèd death, and rest!
Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breast
And ever shall, for this I know is best!