THE PAINS OF SLEEP. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay It hath not been my use to pray No wish conceived, no thought exprest, But yester-night I prayed aloud Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorned, those only strong! * See Note. Deeds to be hid which were not hid, So two nights passed: the night's dismay Saddened and stunned the coming day. Sleep the wide blessing, seemed to me Distemper's worst calamity. The third night, when my own loud scream And having thus my tears subdued The unfathomable hell within The horror of their deeds to view, And whom I love, I love indeed. From all that meets or eye or ear, There falls a genial holy fear Which, like the heavy dew of morn, Refreshes while it bows the heart forlorn! Great God! thy works how wondrous fair! The whole Earth's voice and mind! Where but thy Shadow falls, Grief cannot be !— *See Note. 1814. HUMAN LIFE, ON THE DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY. IF dead, we cease to be; if total gloom Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare Whose sound and motion not alone declare, Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finished vase, She formed with restless hands unconsciously! If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state, Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes, thy fears, The counter-weights!-Thy laughter and thy tears Mean but themselves, each fittest to create, And to repay the other! Why rejoices Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good? Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner's hood, Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices, Image of image, ghost of ghostly elf, That such a thing as thou feel'st warm or cold? Be sad! be glad! be neither! seek, or shun! ; A SWORDED man whose trade is blood, In grief, in anger, and in fear, Thro' jungle, swamp, and torrent flood, I seek the wealth you hold so dear! The dazzling charm of outward form, The power of gold, the pride of birth, Have taken Woman's heart by storm— Usurp'd the place of inward worth. Is not true love of higher price Than outward Form, tho' fair to see, Wealth's glittering fairy-dome of ice, Or echo of proud ancestry?— O! Asra, Asra! couldst thou see (This separation is, alas! Too great a punishment to bear; O! take my life, or let me pass That life, that happy life, with her!) The perils, erst with steadfast eye Encounter'd, now I shrink to seeOh! I have heart enough to dieNot half enough to part from Thee! * See Note. |