Parerga/Through Its Long Night of Gloom

THROUGH ITS LONG NIGHT OF GLOOM.

Ὼ χαρίεσσ᾽ Ἀμαρυλλὶ, μόνας σέθεν οὐδὲ θανοίσαςΛασεύμεσθα. — — —Αἲ αἲ τῶ σκληρῶ μάλα δαίμονος, ὅς με λελόγχη.Theoc. Idyl. iv. 38.
Through its long night of gloomMy heart looks back to thee,The statues of the tombScarce watch more faithfully.But hopeless, and forlornAs the sad sculptur'd stone,My heart exists to mournThe loved-one's loss alone.
Swift as the rainbow's huesMelt in the weeping sky,The loving, the beloved,On earth's cold bosom die.In the fresh dawn of lifeTheir spirits with us stay,But fade before its sultry noon,Its evening's chill decay.
'Tis like the Elfin tale,Where the fairest and the bestWere ever singled forthTo perish ere the rest.'Tis a garden, whence each flowerIn brightest beauty nurst,And the sweetest 'neath the showerIs torn away the first.
Had the Star, that in days of oldIts soft light shed o'er me,Ne'er sunk in the shades of death,How changed my doom might be!I never had learned to sighIn solitary pain,I might feel the bliss to loveAnd know I was loved again.
Oh! not a single graceWas o'er her features shedThat memory cannot trace,And raise again from the dead.Not a tone of that sweet young voiceBut thrills to my heart, as clearAs when its accents blestMy unforgetful ear.
I was a child when we met,And young when thy spirit fled,The bitter soul-drops gush'dWhen they told me thou wast dead.Seldom until that hourHad grief won a tear from me;And few have I shed since thenThat did not flow for thee.
I never breathe thy name,Though none be round to hear;I dare not trust the airWith the sound that was once so dear.Few know that I ever loved,None deem I love thee now;Oh that thou still wert here,Or I were cold as thou!