return? That all, which tears can move, with life is fled? That earthly love is powerless on the dead? Believe it not!?there is a large lone star
i6o Now burning o'er yon western hill afar, And under its clear light there lies a spot Which well might utter forth?Believe it not!
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FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS
I sat beneath that planet?I had wept
My woe to stillness, every night-wind slept;
A hush was on the hills; the very streams
Went by like clouds, or noiseless founts in dreams,
And the dark tree o'ershadowing me that hour,
Stood motionless, even as the gray church-tower
Whereon I gazed unconsciously:?there came
A low sound, like the tremor of a flame,
Or like the light quick shiver of a wing,
Flitting through twilight woods, across the air;
And I looked up!?Oh! for strong words to bring
Conviction o'er thy thought!?Before me there, He, the departed, stood!?Ay, face to face,
So near, and yet how far!?his form, his mien,
Gave to remembrance back each burning trace
Within:?Yet something awfully serene,
Pure, sculpture-like, on the pale brow, that wore
Of the once-beating heart no token more;
And stillness on the lip?and o'er the hair
A gleam, that trembled through the breathless air;
And an unfathomed calm, that seemed to lie
In the grave sweetness of the illumined eye;
Told of the gulfs between our beings set,
And, as that unsheathed spirit-glance I met,
Made my soul faint:?with fear? Oh! not with fear!
With the sick feeling that in his far sphere
My love could be as nothing! But he spoke? How shall I tell thee of the startling thrill
In that low voice, whose breezy tones could fill
My bosom's infinite? O, friend! I woke
Then first to heavenly life!?Soft, solemn, clear
Breathed the mysterious accents on mine ear,
Yet strangely seemed as if the while they rose
From depths of distance, o'er the wide repose
Of slumbering waters wafted, or the dells
