Poems (Temple)/The blind Lover to his Mistress
The BLIND LOVER to his MISTRESS.
Ah! let me hear again that mellow strain,That dulcet trill, whose soft and lucid sweepSteals o'er my trembling soul like gale of Eve,That o'er the world of waters steals its wing,Wakening the sea-wave, Thus let thy sweet songWake the now slumb'ring waves of pausing thought,And through my secret heart pour the rich tideOf Mem'ry's flood. Let the fair shades ariseOf buried hours; let ev'ry witching charmThat Fancy weaves, hang on thy quiv'ring note,And speak of raptures past, and yet to come.What tho' to me are veil'd the living Morn,And gay luxuriance of Woodland bloom; Tho' Spring steps forth to wander o'er the wild,Yet passes me without one sunny smile;Tho' moon, nor stars, nor all the beamy trainThat gem the blue serene, ere hang their lampsTo bless these rayless orbs—yet am I bless'dBeyond their power of blessing.—Muse my heartO'er all thy treasures! Oh with a miser's careBrood o'er the rich amount! Weep tears of joyTo think thou'rt Monarch o'er a World of Love.Yes, she is mine! She chose me from the throng,Me whom the frown of Fate forbade to drinkThe rapture-swimming light of beauty's glance,Forbade to pour the deep and lengthen'd gazeOf tenderness—forbade to fondly dwellOn ev'ry gentle waving line of graceThat marks that angel-form.—The seraph smile,The warm, and mantling tinge; the sunny locks That break in wild profusion o'er the browThrowing their soften'd shade—to me are lost.I only hear thou'rt fair—from others hearOf all the bright perfections of thy face.Yet can I inward look, and view thee thereGlowing in all the beamy charms of Mind,There will I gaze—there dwell in witching tranceOn all thy truth, and singleness of heart.Ah! lead me, dear One! to the craggy steep,For new the sea-gale hurries o'er its brow.On freshning wing; and o'er the upland sceneSteals the soft veil of Eve.—Let airs of Heav'nBathe my faint form—And thou BelovedGive to my soul again the light of song.