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ABSENT, YET PRESENT.
As the flight of a river
That flows to the sea, My soul rushes ever
In tumult to thee. A twofold existence
I am where thou art; My heart in the distance
Beats close to thy heart.
I gaze on thy face;
I feel thine embrace.
The steel it draws to it, Is the charm of thy soul on
The thoughts that pursue it. And absence but brightens
The eyes that I miss, And custom but heightens
The spell of thy kiss. It is not from duty
Tho' that may be owedIt is not from beauty,
Tho' that be bestowed ;
And all that I know,
I worship thee so.
Thro’ granite as breaketh
A tree to the ray,
The grief of the day.
Escapes unto thee;
O light to the tree !
I am where thou art;
The beat of my heart !
Sir E. Bulwer Lytton.
Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums,
That beat to battle where he stands; Thy face across his fancy comes,
And gives the battle to his hands; A moment, while the trumpets blow,
He sees his brood about thy knee; The next, like fire he meets the foe,
And strikes him dead for thine and thee.
Oh, why that falling tear?
The streams, like polished glass,
I will tell a tale to thee
Edward Capern. LXXVI.
Now the rite is duly done;
Now the word is spoken ; And the spell has made us one
Which may ne'er be broken :
Roam we o'er the heather,
Shall we not? together.
From this hour the summer rose
Sweeter breathes to charm us; From this hour the winter snows
Lighter fall to harm us : Fair or foul-on land or sea
Come the wind or weather, Best and worst, whate'er they be,
We shall share together.
Death, who friend from friend can part,
Brother rend from brother,
Closer to each other:
Deem his dart a feather,
Hand in hand together.
W. M. Praed. LXXVII.
And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old : Across the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim, And deep into the dying day
The happy princess followed him. “I'd sleep another hundred years,
O love, for such another kiss ;". “O wake for ever, love,” she hears,
“O love, 'twas such as this and this." And o'er them many a sliding star
And many a merry wind was borne, And streamed thro' many a golden bar,
The twilight melted into morn. “O eyes long laid in happy sleep!"
“ happy sleep, that lightly Red !" “O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!”
“O love, thy kiss would wake the dead !" And o'er them many a flowing range
Of vapour buoyed the cresent-bark, And, 'rapt thro' many a rosy change,
The twilight died into the dark. " A hundred summers! can it be?
And whither goest thou, tell me where ?" O seek my father's court with me,
For there are greater wonders there.” And o'er the hills, and far away,
Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day,
Through all the world she followed him.