Poems By the Way

Chapter 11

Will ye then keep me from the wilderness, Where I at least, alone with my distress, The quiet land of changing dreams may bless?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Forget the false forgetter and be wise, And "mid these clinging hands and loving eyes, Dream, not in vain, thou knowest paradise.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

Ah! with your sweet eyes shorten not the day, Nor let your gentle hands my journey stay!

Perchance love is not wholly cast away.

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Pluck love away as thou wouldst pluck a thorn From out thy flesh; for why shouldst thou be born To bear a life so wasted and forlorn?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

Yea, why then was I born, since hope is pain, And life a lingering death, and faith but vain, And love the loss of all I seemed to gain?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Dost thou believe that this shall ever be, That in our land no face thou e"er shalt see, No voice thou e"er shalt hear to gladden thee?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

No longer do I know of good or bad, I have forgotten that I once was glad; I do but chase a dream that I have had.

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Stay! take one image for thy dreamful night; Come, look at her, who in the world"s despite Weeps for delaying love and lost delight.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

Mock me not till to-morrow. Mock the dead, They will not heed it, or turn round the head, To note who faithless are, and who are wed.

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

We mock thee not. Hast thou not heard of those Whose faithful love the loved heart holds so close, That death must wait till one word lets it loose?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

I hear you not: the wind from off the waste Sighs like a song that bids me make good haste The wave of sweet forgetfulness to taste.

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Come back! like such a singer is the wind, As to a sad tune sings fair words and kind, That he with happy tears all eyes may blind!

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

_Amans_.

Did I not hear her sweet voice cry from far, That o"er the lonely waste fair fields there are, Fair days that know not any change or care?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

_Puellae_.

Oh, no! not far thou heardest her, but nigh; Nigh, "twixt the waste"s edge and the darkling sky.

Turn back again, too soon it is to die.

Abide! a little while be happy here.

_Amans_.

How with the lapse of lone years could I strive, And can I die now that thou biddest live?

What joy this s.p.a.ce "twixt birth and death can give.

Can we depart, who are so happy here?

A GARDEN BY THE SEA.

I know a little garden-close, Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy morn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering.

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