I must depart, and others shall crowd up
The empty room it was my pride to fill;
And other votaries shall attempt the cup,
Whose crystal lends a flavour, sparkling still;
But, sometimes, thus my heart with transport speaks
Sometimes, my name shall flash along thy thought;
Thy heart shall own the spell and pale thy cheeks,
And give one sigh, from joy, or sorrow bought:
I ask not grief; nay, rather joyous weave
A dear recess, luminous with fancy’s rays;
There, let my captured heart delight, not grieve
Thy attentive sequence, through dim memory’s maze:
Joy leads remembrance wistfully through the years;
Give me but love, I ask no weed of tears.