XXVI.

XXVI. [1] 

Yes we must part -- the cruel struggle o'er
I can resign thee now, the die is cast,
The day-dream of my fancied bliss is past,
And now we part to meet, perhaps, no more.
The orient morn shall to the earth restore5
Fresh light, but not the hope that we at last
Shall meet e'er night. the setting sun sink fast
And I have not beheld thee! Yet before
The last farewell is heard, tell my sad heart,
Tho' future scenes may from thy memory blot10
All traces where my image bore a part,
Yet can'st thou ne'er with scorn, or cruel thought
Recall thy friend, no rather in thy breast
In sweet oblivion let my follies rest.

Notes

[1] EDITOR'S NOTE: "Yes we must part -- the cruel struggle o'er" does not appear in Psyche, with Other Poems or Mary (or Collected Poems and Journals). The illustration suggests the poem was written with the character Angela Harley in mind. BACK

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