Poems (E. L. F.)/Oh, I would be alone!
OH, I WOULD BE ALONE!
Oh! I would be aloneIn the deep twilight, when the dayFades from the dewy earth away,And rests its shadow o'er the deep,Silent and soft as childhood's sleep;When breezes die along the plain,And hushed the voice of choral strain;When clouds in lazy languor lie,As if they slept in that pure sky,Where the deep purple and the redTheir rival splendours brightly shed,Till the dark shadows of the nightConceal their glories from our sight.Oh! I would be alone,When the fond memories of the pastTheir trembling shadows o'er me cast, And bring the heart, with many a tear,The treasured tones it loved to hear—The gentle smile, that seemed to beA respite from earth's misery.Oh, crushing thought! that we live on,While those who made life blest are gone,And we are left alone, to braveThe world's cold mockery to the grave.Oh! I would be aloneIn the dark hour, when pent-up griefGives to the heart its own relief;When the deep tears' unheeding flowTells of the heart's unmeasured woe,And passions play around the soul,All heedless of the past control—When all is hushed, and none to tellThat burning bosom's rising swell.Oh! I would be aloneIn the bright, blissful summer's day,When all around is light and gay,And the dreamy spell of the sunny hourWill smile o'er bird, and tree, and flower; Each blossom blush a deeper hue,As if it felt a gladness too,And perfumed zephyrs, hovering high,Lend a sweet fragrance to the sky,Where the light clouds fantastic play,Rejoicing in the bright array.Oh! then the weary heart may feelA calm enjoyance o'er it steal,Blessing all nature fair and bright,That thus can make the lone heart light,Chasing each sad and glistening tear,Hushing the voice of every fear.Oh! then the heart may muse awayThe memory of each sad dismay,And o'er the future fondly gaze,While hope on hope we onward raise.Each cherished thought of coming joyIs one bright promise—no alloyTo wake the charm of that sweet dream,Gliding along life's fitful stream,Dancing in sunshine, till the mindIs lost, is dazzled, far behind, Until at last some worldly care,Like a huge rock uplift in air,Breaks the pure radiance of the past—By far too bright and smooth to last:It may unite, yet be no moreThe same bright stream it was of yore.These lone, sweet hours I would not giveFor all that makes the gay heart live;The meaner joys, that cling to earth,Can never make existence worth;But the spell of nature lives for ever,And is to man a life-long treasure.