I know not if my bliss were vain, For all the force of parting pain Forbade suspicious doubts to reign,
When exiled from her sight:
Yet now what double woe for me, Just at the close of eve, to see
The dayspring of delight.
Quem diz que Amor he falso, o enganoso.
He who proclaims that Love is light and vain,
Capricious, cruel, false in all his ways;
Ah! sure too well hath merited his pain,
Too justly finds him all he thus pourtrays.
For Love is pitying, Love is soft and kind;
Believe not him who dares the tale oppose;
Oh! deem him one whom stormy passions blind,
One to whom earth and heaven may well be foes.
If Love bring evils, view them all in me!
Here let the world his utmost rigor see,
His utmost power exerted to annoy :
But all his ire is still the ire of Love;
And such delight in all his woes I prove,
I would not change their pangs for aught of other joy!
Doces, e claras aguas do Mondego.
WAVES of Mondego! brilliant and serene,
Haunts of my thought, where memory fondly strays;
Where hope allured me with perfidious mien,
Witching my soul, in long-departed days;
Yes! I forsake your banks; but still my heart
Shall bid remembrance all your charms restore,
And, suffering not one image to depart,
Find lengthening distance but endear you more.
Let fortune's will, through many a future day,
To distant realms this mortal frame convey,
Sport of each wind, and tost on every wave!
Yet my fond soul, to pensive memory true,
On thought's light pinion still shall fly to you,
And still, bright waters! in your current lave.
Onde acharei lugar taō apartado.
WHERE shall I find some desert-scene so rude,
Where loneliness so undisturbed may reign,
That not a step shall ever there intrude
Of roving man, or nature's savage train?
Some tangled thicket, desolate and drear,
Or deep wild forest, silent as the tomb,
Boasting no verdure bright, no fountain clear,
But darkly suited to my spirit's gloom?
That there, 'midst frowning rocks, alone with grief
Entombed in life, and hopeless of relief,
In lonely freedom I may breathe my woes-
For oh! since nought my sorrows can allay,
There shall my sadness cloud no festal day,
And days of gloom shall soothe me to repose.
Eu vivia de lagrimas isento.
EXEMPT from every grief, 'twas mine to live
In dreams so sweet, enchantments so divine,
A thousand joys propitious Love can give,
Were scarcely worth one rapturous pain of mine.
Bound by soft spells, in dear illusions blest,
I breathed no sigh for fortune or for power;
No care intruding to disturb my breast,
I dwelt entranced in Love's Elysian bower:
But Fate, such transports eager to destroy,
Soon rudely woke me from the dream of joy,
And bade the phantoms of delight begone!
Bade hope and happiness at once depart,
And left but memory to distract my heart,
Retracing every hour of bliss for ever flown.
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