My oars were lifted and my boat
Lay rocked upon the rippling stream;
While my vague thoughts alike afloat,
Drifted thro' many an idle dream.
With all of which, wild and unfixt
As was their aim, that vision mixt,
That bright nymph of the Temple--now,
With the same innocence of brow
She wore within the lighted fane--
Now kindling thro' each pulse and vein
With passion of such deep-felt fire
As Gods might glory to inspire;--
And now--oh Darkness of the tomb,
That must eclipse even light like hers!
Cold, dead, and blackening mid the gloom
Of those eternal sepulchres.
Scarce had I turned my eyes away
From that dark death-place, at the thought,
When by the sound of dashing spray
From a light oar my ear was caught,
While past me, thro' the moonlight, sailed.
A little gilded bark that bore
Two female figures closely veiled
And mantled towards that funeral shore.
They landed--and the boat again
Put off across the watery plain.
Shall I confess--to _thee_ I may--
That never yet hath come the chance
Of a new music, a new ray
From woman's voice, from woman's glance,
Which--let it find me how it might,
In joy or grief--I did not bless,
And wander after as a light
Leading to undreamt, happiness.
And chiefly now when hopes so vain
Were stirring in my heart and brain,
When Fancy had allured my soul
Into a chase as vague and far
As would be his who fixt his goal
In the horizon or some star--
_Any_ bewilderment that brought
More near to earth my high-flown thought--
The faintest glimpse of joy, less pure,
Less high and heavenly, but more sure,
Came welcome--and was then to me
What the first flowery isle must be
To vagrant birds blown out to sea.
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