Page:Felicia Hemans in The Amulet 1832.pdf/5

    "No! deathless, in thy faithful breast,
        There shall my memory keep
    Its own bright altar-place of rest,
While o'er my grave the cypress-branches weep.

    "Oh! the glad light!—the light is fair,
        The soft breeze pure and free,
    And rich notes fill the scented air,
And all are gifts—my love's last gifts to thee!

    "Take me to thy warm heart once more!—
        Night falls; my pulse beats low;
    Seek not to quicken—to restore—
Joy is in every pang—I go! I go!

    "I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath,
        I meet thy fond look still;
    Keen is the strife of love and death!
Faint and yet fainter grows my bosom's thrill!

    "Yet swells the tide of rapture strong,
        Though mists o'ershade mine eye;
    Sing Pæan!—sing a conqueror's song!
For thee, for thee, my spirit's lord, I die!"