To Emma.

Far away, where darkness reigneth,
All my dreams of bliss are flown;
Yet with love my gaze remaineth
Fixed on one fair star alone.
But, alas! that star so bright
Sheds no lustre save by night.
If in slumbers ending never,
Gloomy death had sealed thine eyes,
Thou hadst lived in memory ever
Thou hadst lived still in my sighs;
But, alas! in light thou livest
To my love no answer givest!
Can the sweet hopes love once cherished
Emma, can they transient prove?
What has passed away and perished
Emma, say, can that be love?
That bright flame of heavenly birth
Can it die like things of earth?