When the light was extinguished, She covered me warm, And she prayed to the angels To keep me from harm-- To the queen of the angels To shield me from harm.
And I lie so composedly, Now in my bed (Knowing her love) That you fancy me dead-- And I rest so contentedly, Now in my bed, (With her love at my breast) That you fancy me dead-- That you shudder to look at me.
Thinking me dead.
But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky, For it sparkles with Annie-- It glows with the light Of the love of my Annie-- With the thought of the light Of the eyes of my Annie.
1849.
TO F--
Beloved! amid the earnest woes That crowd around my earthly path-- (Drear path, alas! where grows Not even one lonely rose)-- My soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee, and therein knows An Eden of bland repose.
And thus thy memory is to me Like some enchanted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea-- Some ocean throbbing far and free With storm--but where meanwhile Serenest skies continually Just o"er that one bright inland smile.
1845.
TO FRANCES S. OSGOOD.
Thou wouldst be loved?--then let thy heart From its present pathway part not; Being everything which now thou art, Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways, Thy grace, thy more than beauty, Shall be an endless theme of praise.
And love a simple duty.
1845.
ELDORADO.
Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old-- This knight so bold-- And o"er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow-- "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be-- This land of Eldorado?"
"Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied, "If you seek for Eldorado!"
1849.
EULALIE.
I dwelt alone In a world of moan, And my soul was a stagnant tide, Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-- Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less--less bright The stars of the night Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
And never a flake That the vapor can make With the moon-tints of purple and pearl, Can vie with the modest Eulalie"s most unregarded curl-- Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie"s most humble and careless curl.
Now Doubt--now Pain Come never again, For her soul gives me sigh for sigh, And all day long Shines, bright and strong, Astarte within the sky, While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-- While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
1845.