58
INTERLUDES.
Lora:—
"My Laël, no; I am not, surely, sad;
Nor do I grieve; but I am more than glad;
For I was dreaming of our holy love;
Was thinking of its purity of flame,
And I from earth was raised to heaven above,
And felt like calling love by nobler name.
I thought that we had come to yonder star,
As beings that had laid aside their clay,
And in those realms of blessedness afar,
Would always live in never-ending day.
I dreamed that there our souls would never part,
But offer up their incense in one flame;
That ours would be a single-throbbing heart,
And ours the oneness of a single name;—
That there no thought, and no desire could be
That did not center in a love of thee."
"My Laël, no; I am not, surely, sad;
Nor do I grieve; but I am more than glad;
For I was dreaming of our holy love;
Was thinking of its purity of flame,
And I from earth was raised to heaven above,
And felt like calling love by nobler name.
I thought that we had come to yonder star,
As beings that had laid aside their clay,
And in those realms of blessedness afar,
Would always live in never-ending day.
I dreamed that there our souls would never part,
But offer up their incense in one flame;
That ours would be a single-throbbing heart,
And ours the oneness of a single name;—
That there no thought, and no desire could be
That did not center in a love of thee."
