Thou wast that all to me, love,
   For which my soul did pine --
  A green isle in the sea, love,
   A fountain and a shrine,
 All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
   And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream to bright to last!
   Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
  But to be overcast!
   A voice from the Future cries,
  "On! on!" -- but o'er the Past
 (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
   Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
   The light of Life is o'er!
  No more -- no more -- no more --
   (Such language holds the solemn sea
  To the sands upon the shore)
 Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
   Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
   And all my nightly dreams
  Are where thy grey eye glances,
   And where thy footstep gleams --
 In what ethereal dances,
   By what eternal streams.