ONE night, with sleep my senses being opprest, Fixt on that thought, which still o'er-rul'd my breast In mourning dress, with silence did appear, She of her sex was to my soul most dear: 'Cynthia,' methought, I said, and gaz'd awhile, 'Where's thy accustom'd look, and cheerful smile? What sad occasion thus disturbs thee now, And hangs that gloomy sadness on thy brow?' She only sigh'd, and off'ring to depart, I snatch'd her hand, and laid it to my heart, And whilst I in this trembling rapture stand, She took, and held me by my other hand. I thought my heart 'twixt joy and grief would break, Adding with tears, 'My dear, I prithee speak'; And grasp'd her fast, she struggling to be gone, Till wak'd: but then I found myself alone. Oft have I griev'd to think what this might prove, And gather'd hence ill omens to my Love; But since I may too soon the mischief find, I'll strive to chase the fancy from my mind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET'S BRIDAL DAY SONG by ALLAN CUNNINGHAM ANGEL OR WOMAN by THOMAS PARNELL ODES II, 10 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS THE LOWEST PLACE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMORETTI: 30 by EDMUND SPENSER NOVEMBER, 1806 by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH IMAGES: 5 by RICHARD ALDINGTON TWO THINGS by AMIR MAHMUD IBN AMIR YAMINU'D-DIN TUGHRA'I TO GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, ESQ., ON SEEING HIS PICTURE ... by MATTHEW ARNOLD |