Song of Egla

Maria Gowen Brooks (Maria del Occidente) (1794?–1845)

DAY, in melting purple dying;

Blossoms, all around me sighing;

Fragrance, from the lilies straying;

Zephyr, with my ringlets playing;

Ye but waken my distress;

I am sick of loneliness!

Thou, to whom I love to hearken,

Come, ere night around me darken;

Though thy softness but deceive me,

Say thou ’rt true, and I ’ll believe thee;

Veil, if ill, thy soul’s intent,

Let me think it innocent!

Save thy toiling, spare thy treasure;

All I ask is friendship’s pleasure;

Let the shining ore lie darkling,—

Bring no gem in lustre sparkling;

Gifts and gold are naught to me,

I would only look on thee!

Tell to thee the high-wrought feeling,

Ecstasy but in revealing;

Paint to thee the deep sensation,

Rapture in participation;

Yet but torture, if comprest

In a lone, unfriended breast.

Absent still! Ah! come and bless me!

Let these eyes again caress thee.

Once in caution, I could fly thee;

Now, I nothing could deny thee.

In a look if death there be,

Come, and I will gaze on thee!