By Charles Sangster



     Oh! this continued absence from thy side!—
     When will it cease?  When will this lonely heart
     Know thy companionship?  When will thy breast
     Pillow this aching head, and set at rest
     The crowds of tantalizing fantasies


     That throng my brain?  Stern edict! to divide
     The worshipper from his idol, or to part
     The olive and the vine in their embrace!
     Ev’n as the heavens are mirrored in the seas,
     So in my mind reflected is thy face:


     I look into its depths, and there I trace
     Thy image unmistakably impressed—
     Love’s true daguerreotype.  But even there
Thou art not—yet thou art—I joy, and I despair. [Page 231]