Part 25 (2/2)

Yet think not Death will serve thy stead; I'll find thy grave, though wall'd in stone.

I'll move thy mould to make my bed, And lie with thee long hours alone:-- Long, lifeless hours! Ah G.o.d, how free, How pale, how cold, thy lips will be!

XV.

But graves are cells of truth and love, And men may talk no treason there.

A corpse will wear no wedding-glove, A ghost will make no sign in air.

But ghosts can pray? Well, let them kneel; They, too, must loathe the love they feel.

XVI.

Ah me! to sleep and yet to wake, To live so long, and yet to die; To sing sad songs for Sylvia's sake, And yet no peace to gain thereby!

What have I done? What left unsaid?

Nay, I will count my tears instead.

XVII.

Here is a word of wild design.

Here is a threat; 'twas meant to warn.

Here is a fierce and freezing line, As hot as hate, as cold as scorn.

Ah, friend! forgive; forbear my rhymes, But pray for me, sweet soul! sometimes.

XVIII.

Had I a curse to spare to-day, (Which I have not) I'd use it now.

I'd curse my hair to turn it gray, I'd teach my back to bend and bow; I'd make myself so old and thin That I should seem too sad to sin.

XIX.

And then we'd meet, we two, at night; And I should know what saints have known.

Thou would'st not tremble, dear, for fright, Or shriek to meet me there alone.

I should not then be spurned for this, Or want a smile, or need a kiss.

XX.

I should not then be fierce as fire, Or mad as sin, or sharp as knife; My heart would throb with no desire, For care would cool the flush of life; And I should love thee, spotless one, As pilgrims love some holy nun.

XXI.

Ah, queen-like creature! smile on me; Be kind, be good; I lov'd thee much.

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