XIX.
If all the sweet delights of life
Should turn to dreary slaving,
And only love were left to cheer
Still life were worth the having.
If truth were everything on earth
And love were only dreaming,
I’d shun this waking life and plunge
In dreams were love was beaming.
And granted it were all a dream
Still ever I’d remember,
That sweet fond dream, that shed a beam,
O’er waking life’s November.
XX.
Dark as is heaven’s blue azure vault
So golden is the starlight,
Strange fancies fill the heart of him
Who gazes on that far light
Of star dust, eddying far and far
Beyond the range of seeing,
Where yet not one small star reveals
The secret of its being.
Only when in two virgin hearts
Love’s earliest breath is breathing,
Yon heaven, ’tis said, another star
Among her orbs is wreathing.
