MY LOVE.

I love! and ah, 'tis bliss to feel My breast no longer lone and cold; To know, though Time all else should steal, The heart can never all grow old! I love! and now I live again! The world looks brighter to my eyes; There is a gladness on the plain— A newer glory in the skies. I love! Her smile is o'er my path Like sunlight in sweet April hours: Her voice steals o'er me like the breath Of morning to half-withered flowers. I love! Ah she may never know How wild my love! I have no sigh— I have no word—nor look to show How much I'm blessed when she is nigh. And it is well!—my hapless love May never dare to ask return— Enough that her glad smiles may move My heart—I ask not hers to burn! Ah no. 'Tis better thus to meet With equal pulse and tranquil brow— Drink, through her eyes, delirium sweet. Can madness from such fountains flow? I know not! Dearest, still, oh still, "Look love upon me," sweet and kind!— Let thy glad thought, in music, thrill Bright witchcraft through my longing mind. I clasp thee to my breast—in dreams! Thy lips rain kisses warm and fast— And I half hate the morning beams That scare thee to thy home at last. Thy "home!"—ah, would it ne'er had been— Thy home and mine are wide apart— The world's grim shadow glooms between— And my life lives but where thou art. Ah, dearest, we're not happy! Life Yields not the bliss 'twas meant to do: Discord might come of wrong and strife— Should sorrow spring from duty, too? Thou art not happy, dearest, thou!— A shade has fallen on thy young years; Thou art not happy: even now Thine eyes are full of unshed tears. And this our fate? My Life!—my "world!"— Too late beloved—too rarely seen— And we, as o'er Time's tide we're hurled, Can only say "WE MIGHT HAVE BEEN!"