Forget, forget that night's offence,
Forgive it, if, alas! you can;
'Twas love, 'twas passion--soul and sense--
'Twas all that's best and worst in man.
That moment, did the assembled eyes
Of heaven and earth my madness view,
I should have seen, thro' earth and skies,
But you alone--but only you.
Did not a frown from you reprove.
Myriads of eyes to me were none;
Enough for me to win your love,
And die upon the spot, when won.
A DREAM OF ANTIQUITY.
I just had turned the classic page.
And traced that happy period over,
When blest alike were youth and age,
And love inspired the wisest sage,
And wisdom graced the tenderest lover.
Before I laid me down to sleep
Awhile I from the lattice gazed
Upon that still and moonlight deep,
With isles like floating gardens raised,
For Ariel there his sports to keep;
While, gliding 'twixt their leafy shores
The lone night-fisher plied his oars.
I felt,--so strongly fancy's power
Came o'er me in that witching hour,--
As if the whole bright scenery there
Were lighted by a Grecian sky,
And I then breathed the blissful air
That late had thrilled to Sappho's sigh.
Thus, waking, dreamt I,--and when Sleep
Came o'er my sense, the dream went on;
Nor, through her curtain dim and deep,
Hath ever lovelier vision shone.
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