THY PSYCHE.
173
O my heart! the vision changes; fades the soft, celestial blue;
Dies away the rapturous music, thrilling all my pulses through;
Lone I sit within my chamber, storms are beating 'gainst the pane,
And my tears are falling faster than the chill December rain,—
Yet, though I am doomed to linger, joyless, on this earthly shore,
Thou art Cupid, I am Psyche, we are wedded evermore.
Dies away the rapturous music, thrilling all my pulses through;
Lone I sit within my chamber, storms are beating 'gainst the pane,
And my tears are falling faster than the chill December rain,—
Yet, though I am doomed to linger, joyless, on this earthly shore,
Thou art Cupid, I am Psyche, we are wedded evermore.
