Classic Poem

Oh Lady! thou hast touch'd a chord
I vainly hoped would ne'er more thrill;
Alas! I find a whisper'd word
May call me back to anguish still!
The lay that trembled from thy tongue
Hath waken'd shadows of the past,
When pleasure o'er my pathway flung
Hues far too sweet — too bright to last,
When first I heard that tuneful lay
'Twas breathed from one I lov'd too well —
And though in dust that form decay,
Her love, her woes, in memory dwell.
I madly thought I'd school'd my heart
To bear, without betraying pain;
But, ah! so like to her thou art,
Thou prov'st my efforts all in vain!
The smile she wore when first we met,
The tear she shed when last we parted,
These thou forbidd'st me to forget —
And all that made me broken hearted!
Eliza! thou art laid to rest,
In virgin prime, in youthful bloom,
Within the cold earth's silent breast —
While I am in a living tomb!
Yes, yes, I live, if life this be,
But what to me is sickly breath?
Each voiceless object speaks of thee,
And tells me thou art cold in death!
Lost maiden! in the silent hour
When slumber twines her opiate chain,
Then, then, remembrance hath the power
To call thy form to view again —
And when I wake, I wake to sigh,
That one so fondly lov'd should fade;
Oh, why did'st thou so early die! —
Or why was I not with thee laid!