FROM 'THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS.' <br /> <br /> <br />'How sweetly,' said the trembling maid, <br />Of her own gentle voice afraid, <br />So long had they in silence stood, <br />Looking upon that moonlight flood,-- <br />'How sweetly does the moonbeam smile <br />To-night upon yon leafy isle! <br />Oft in my fancy's wanderings, <br />I've wished that little isle had wings, <br />And we, within its fairy bowers, <br />Were wafted off to seas unknown, <br />Where not a pulse should beat but ours, <br />And we might live, love, die alone! <br />Far from the cruel and the cold,-- <br />Where the bright eyes of angels only <br />Should come around us, to behold <br />A paradise so pure and lonely! <br />Would this be world enough for thee?'-- <br />Playful she turned, that he might see <br />The passing smile her cheek put on; <br />But when she marked how mournfully <br />His eyes met hers, that smile was gone; <br />And, bursting into heartfelt tears, <br />'Yes, yes,' she cried, 'my hourly fears, <br />My dreams, have boded all too right,-- <br />We part--forever part--to-night! <br />I knew, I knew it _could_ not last,-- <br />'T was bright, 't was heavenly, but 't is past! <br />O, ever thus, from childhood's hour, <br />I've seen my fondest hopes decay; <br />I never loved a tree or flower <br />But 't was the first to fade away. <br />I never nursed a dear gazelle, <br />To glad me with its soft black eye, <br />But when it came to know me well, <br />And love me, it was sure to die! <br />Now, too, the joy most like divine <br />Of all I ever dreamt or knew, <br />To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine,-- <br />O misery! must I lose _that_ too?'<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/linda-to-hafed/
