BELOVED! amid the earnest woes

That crowd around my earthly path —

(Drear path, alas! where grows

Not even one lonely rose) —

My soul at least a solace hath

In dreams of thee, and therein knows

An Eden of bland repose.

 

And thus thy memory is to me

Like some enchanted far-off isle

In some tumultuous sea —

Some ocean thorbbing far and free

With storms — but where meanwhile

Serenest skies continually

Just o'er that one bright island smile.

E