"Then, glancing back on Time's brief woes, Will he behold them, fading, fly; Swept from Eternity's repose, Like sullying cloud from pure blue sky? "If so, endure, my weary frame; And when thy anguish strikes too deep, And when all troubled burns life's flame, Think of the quiet, final sleep; "Think of the glorious waking-hour, Which will not dawn on grief and tears, But on a ransomed spirit's power, Certain, and free from mortal fears. "Seek now thy couch, and lie till morn, Then from thy chamber, calm, descend, With mind nor tossed, nor anguish-torn, But tranquil, fixed, to wait the end. "And when thy opening eyes shall see Mementos, on the chamber wall, Of one who has forgotten thee, Shed not the tear of acrid gall. "The tear which, welling from the heart, Burns where its drop corrosive falls, And makes each nerve, in torture, start, At feelings it too well recalls: "When the sweet hope of being loved Threw Eden sunshine on life's way: When every sense and feeling proved Expectancy of brightest day. "When the hand trembled to receive A thrilling clasp, which seemed so near, And the heart ventured to believe Another heart esteemed it dear. "When words, half love, all tenderness, Were hourly heard, as hourly spoken, When the long, sunny days of bliss Only by moonlight nights were broken. "Till, drop by drop, the cup of joy Filled full, with purple light was glowing, And Faith, which watched it, sparkling high Still never dreamt the overflowing. "It fell not with a sudden crashing, It poured not out like open sluice; No, sparkling still, and redly flashing, Drained, drop by drop, the generous juice. "I saw it sink, and strove to taste it, My eager lips approached the brim; The movement only seemed to waste it; It sank to dregs, all harsh and dim. "These I have drunk, and they for ever Have poisoned life and love for me; A draught from Sodom's lake could never More fiery, salt, and bitter, be. "Oh! Love was all a thin illusion Joy, but the desert's flying stream; And glancing back on long delusion, My memory grasps a hollow dream. "Yet whence that wondrous change of feeling, I never knew, and cannot learn; Nor why my lover's eye, congealing, Grew cold and clouded, proud and stern. "Nor wherefore, friendship's forms forgetting, He careless left, and cool withdrew; Nor spoke of grief, nor fond regretting, Nor ev'n one glance of comfort threw. "And neither word nor token sending, Of kindness, since the parting day, His course, for distant regions bending, Went, self-contained and calm, away.