The Weekly Portage Sentinel

Poetry

LINES.

The Louisville Journal says: We defy any tasteful lover of poetry to read the following lines, without exclaiming, "How beautiful!"

My soul thy sacred image keeps,
My midnight dreams are all of thee;
For nature then in silence sleeps,
And silence broods o'er land and sea.

Oh, in that still, mysterious hour,
How oft from waking dreams I start
To find thee but a fancy's power,
Thou cherished idol of my heart.

Thou hast each thought and dream of mine
Have I in turn one thought of thine?

Forever thine my dreams will be
What'e'er my fortunes may be here,
I ask no love—I claim from thee
Only one boon, a gentle tear

May e'er blest visions from above
Play brightly round thy happy heart.

And may the beams of peace and love
Ne'er from thy glowing soul depart,

Farewell; my dreams are still with thee
Hast thou one tender thought of me?

My joys like summer birds may fly
My hopes like summer blooms depart,
But there's one flower that cannot die,
Thy holy memory in my heart;

To dews that one hour's cup may fill,
No sunlight to its leaves be given,
But it will live and flourish still,
As deathless as a thing of heaven.

My soul greets thine, unasked, unsought
Hast thou for me one gentle thought?

Farewell, farewell, my far off friend!
Between us broad, blue river's flow,
And forests wave and plains extend,
And mountains in the sunlight glow,
The wind that breathes upon thy brow.

Is not the wind that breathes on mine,
The star beams shining on thee now,
Are not the beams that on me shine;
But memory's spell is with me yet.
Canst thou the holy past forget?

The bitter tears that thou and I
May shed, where'er by anguish bowed,
Exalted in the noontide sky,
May meet and mingle in the cloud,

And thus my much loved friend, though we
Far, far apart, must live and move,
Our souls, when God shall set them free,
Can mingle in the world of love,
This is an ecstasy to me—
Say—would it be a joy to thee?