pitated on the sea
Of human feeling was the incident
That caught their wonder; then the skies were rent With quivering sound, with passion's liberty.
So have I stood before this parting day,
With chilly fingers pressed upon my breast,
That my heart burst not fleshen bands away,
And my sharp cry break through my lady's rest.
I have shut burning eyelids on the sight
Of this dread time that scorches my sad night.
TOO SOON AWAY
Have I then found thee but to lose thee, friend?
But touched thee ere thou vanished from my gaze?
And when my soul is struggling from the maze
Of many conflicts, must our converse end?
Across the empty space that now shall spread
Between us, shall I never go to thee?
Or thou, beloved, never come to me,
Save but to whisper prayers