Page:Love and its hidden history.djvu/59

Oh, in that still, mysterious hour,
How oft from waking dreams I start,
To find thee but a fancy flower,
Thou cherished idol of my heart!
Thou hast each thought and dream of mine,—
Have I in turn one thought of thine?

"Forever thine my dreams will be,
Whatever may be my fortunes here;
I ask not love, I claim from thee
One only boon, a gentle tear.
May blessed visions from above
Play brightly round thy happy heart,
And may the beams of peace and love
Ne'er from thy glowing soul depart.
Farewell! my dreams are still of thee,—
Hast thou one gentle thought of me?

"My joys like summer birds may fly;
My hopes like summer blooms depart;
But there's one flower that cannot die,—
Thy holy memory in my heart.
No dews that flower's cup may fill;
No sunlight to its leaves be given;
But it will live and flourish still,
As deathless as a thing of heaven.
My soul meets thine, unasked, unsought,—
Hast thou for me one tender thought?
 
"Farewell! farewell my far-off friend,
Between us broad blue oceans flow,
And forests wave, and plains extend
And mountains in the sunlight glow.
The winds that breathe upon thy brow
Are not the same that breathe on mine;
The starbeams shining on thee now
Are not the same that on me shine;
But memory's spell is on me yet;
Canst thou the holy past forget?
 
"The bitter tears that thou and I
May shed, where'er by anguish bowed,
Exhaled into the noontide sky,
May meet and mingle in the cloud;
And thus, my much-loved friend, though we
Far, far apart must live and move,
Our souls, when God shall set them free,
Can mingle in a world of love.
This were an ecstasy to me!—
Say, would it be a joy to thee?