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The moon is full this
winter night;
The stars are clear, though few;
And every window glistens bright
With leaves of frozen dew.
The sweet moon through your
lattice gleams,
And lights your room like day;
And there you pass, in happy dreams,
The peaceful hours away!
While I, with effort
hardly quelling
The anguish in my breast,
Wander about the silent dwelling,
And cannot think of rest.
The old clock in the
gloomy hall
Ticks on, from hour to hour;
And every time its measured call
Seems lingering slow and slower:
And, oh, how slow
that keen-eyed star
Has tracked the chilly gray!
What, watching yet! how very far
The morning lies away!
Without your chamber
door I stand;
Love, are you slumbering still?
My cold heart, underneath my hand,
Has almost ceased to thrill.
Bleak, bleak the east
wind sobs and sighs,
And drowns the turret bell,
Whose sad note, undistinguished, dies
Unheard, like my farewell!
To-morrow, Scorn will
blight my name,
And Hate will trample me,
Will load me with a coward's shame--
A traitor's perjury.
False friends will
launch their covert sneers;
True friends will wish me dead;
And I shall cause the bitterest tears
That you have ever shed.
The dark deeds of my
outlawed race
Will then like virtues shine;
And men will pardon their disgrace,
Beside the guilt of mine.
For, who forgives the
accursed crime
Of dastard treachery?
Rebellion, in its chosen time,
May Freedom's champion be;
Revenge may stain a
righteous sword,
It may be just to slay;
But, traitor, traitor,--from THAT word
All true breasts shrink away!
Oh, I would give my
heart to death,
To keep my honour fair;
Yet, I'll not give my inward faith
My honour's NAME to spare!
Not even to keep your
priceless love,
Dare I, Beloved, deceive;
This treason should the future prove,
Then, only then, believe!
I know the path I
ought to go
I follow fearlessly,
Inquiring not what deeper woe
Stern duty stores for me.
So foes pursue, and cold allies
Mistrust me, every one:
Let me be false in others' eyes,
If faithful in my own. |
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