Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/238

Thou doubt'st perchance; and once there was a time
I also doubted it; and endless thought
My deep affliction, and insulting crime
To tell me to an end it could be brought.

And yet it was! for so from God to man
That is another mercy, which alone,
Amidst so many woes 't is his to scan,
Aids him this weary life to suffer on.

Hope then, believe my words, and trust in me:
Who in this world the unhappy privilege
Has bought so dear to speak of misery?
These many years that saw it me assiege,

Saw me no day but as the plaything vile
Of a dire fate, that like a shrub amain
The hurricane tears up, and raised awhile
It fiercely dashes to the earth again.

I know it true, against the blows of fate,
When that against ourselves they only glance,
The firm heart shielded can withstand its hate;
But so it is not oft: and thou, perchance,

Mayst think I never one have lost I loved
More than my life. If sorrow will give truce
Thee for a moment, turn thine eyes disproved

To an unhappy orphan, weak, recluse,