Skip to main content
What means that darkly-working brow,
Melledina?
Whose heart-springs art thou wresting now,
Melladina?
The dearest pleasure follows pain,
But thou with grief shalt aye remain,
And for thyself hast forged the chain,
Melladina!

Ah, dream of sullen skies no more,
Sad Leucoia!
The roughest ocean hath a shore,
Sweet Leucoia!
A steadfast shore the billows kiss,
And often some fancied joy to miss,
Prepares the heart for higher bliss,
Young Leucoia!
Rate this poem
No votes yet