Poems (Eliza Gabriella Lewis)/Love
For works with similar titles, see Love.
LOVE.
Love bringeth thoughts, that make their own distress,It bringeth dreams, too, full of happiness,And hopes, that fall like dew-drops o'er the rose, Shedding sweet odours, even o'er life's close.
A deep, a dangerous delight it seems To live on other's breath, a life of dreams—When but a word, a look, a passing sigh Can bring such blessedness—or misery.
An opening bud, a faded fallen leaf Calleth back memories of joy or grief; The wind that sweepeth wildly o'er the plain, Whispers love's passionate farewell again.
'Tis better not to love; the heart can dwell On other themes of happiness as well—Let kindly faces gather round my hearth,And cheer life's pilgrimage with song and mirth.