Ah me! how sweet the morning sun Deigns on yon sleepy town to shine! How soft those far-off rivers run— Those trees their leafy heads decline! Balm-breathing zephyrs, all divine, Their health-imparting influence give: 70 Now, all that earth allows is mine— Now, now I dream not, but I live. X. My friend, my brother, lost in youth, I meet in doubtful, glad surprise; In conscious love, in fearless truth; What pleasures in the meeting rise! Ah! brief enjoyment!—Pleasure dies E’en in its birth, and turns to pain: He meets me with hard glazèd eyes! He quits me—spurns me—with disdain! 80 XI. I sail the sea, I walk the land; In all the world am I alone: Silent I pace the sea-worn sand, Silent I view the princely throne; I listen heartless for the tone Of winds and waters, but in vain; Creation dies without a groan; And I without a hope remain! XII. Unnumber’d riches I behold; Glories untasted I survey— 90 My heart is sick, my bosom cold, Friends! neighbours! kindred! where are they, In the sad, last, long, endless day: When I can neither pray nor weep, Doom’d o’er the sleeping world to stray, And not to die, and not to sleep? XIII. Beside the summer sea I stand, Where the slow billows swelling shine. How beautiful this pearly sand, That waves, and winds, and years refine! 100 Be this delicious quiet mine— The joy of youth, so sweet before, When I could thus my frame recline, And watch th’ entangled weeds ashore! XIV. Yet, I remember not that sea, That other shore on yonder side: Between them narrow bound must be, If equal rise th’ opposing tide— Lo! lo! they rise—and I abide The peril of the meeting flood: 110 Away, away, my footsteps slide— I pant upon the clinging mud! XV. Oh, let me now possession take Of this—it cannot be a dream. Yes! now the soul must be awake— These pleasures are—they do not seem. And is it true? Oh joy extreme! All whom I loved, and thought them dead, Far down in Lethe’s flowing stream, And, with them, life’s best pleasures fled: 120 XVI. Yes, many a tear for them I shed— Tears that relieve the anxious breast; And now, by heavenly favour led, We meet—and One, the fairest, best, Among them—ever-welcome guest, Within the room, that seem’d destroy’d— This room endear’d, and still possess’d, By this dear party still enjoy’d! XVII.