_Anah_. Seraph! From thy sphere! Whatever star contain thy glory; In the eternal depths of heaven Albeit thou watchest with "the seven,"[140] 40 Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings worlds be driven, Yet hear! Oh! think of her who holds thee dear! And though she nothing is to thee, Yet think that thou art all to her. Thou canst not tell,--and never be Such pangs decreed to aught save me,-- The bitterness of tears. Eternity is in thine years, 50 Unborn, undying beauty in thine eyes; With me thou canst not sympathise, Except in love, and there thou must Acknowledge that more loving dust Ne'er wept beneath the skies. Thou walk'st thy many worlds, thou see'st The face of him who made thee great, As he hath made me of the least Of those cast out from Eden's gate: Yet, Seraph dear! 60 Oh hear! For thou hast loved me, and I would not die Until I know what I must die in knowing, That thou forget'st in thine eternity Her whose heart Death could not keep from o'er-flowing For thee, immortal essence as thou art! Great is their love who love in sin and fear; And such, I feel, are waging in my heart A war unworthy: to an Adamite Forgive, my Seraph! that such thoughts appear, 70 For sorrow is our element; Delight An Eden kept afar from sight, Though sometimes with our visions blent. The hour is near Which tells me we are not abandoned quite.-- Appear! Appear! Seraph! My own Azaziel! be but here, And leave the stars to their own light! 80