Oh, wast thou with me, dearest, then,
      While I rose up against my doom,
      And yearn'd to burst the folded gloom,
To bare the eternal Heavens again,

To feel once more, in placid awe,
      The strong imagination roll
      A sphere of stars about my soul,
In all her motion one with law;

If thou wert with me, and the grave
      Divide us not, be with me now,
      And enter in at breast and brow,
Till all my blood, a fuller wave,

Be quicken'd with a livelier breath,
      And like an inconsiderate boy,
      As in the former flash of joy,
I slip the thoughts of life and death;

And all the breeze of Fancy blows,
      And every dew-drop paints a bow,
      The wizard lightnings deeply glow,
And every thought breaks out a rose.


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Last modified 16 February 2010