Chapter 57 of 67

“THE HAPPIEST DAY.”

I

The happiest day—the happiest hour

My seared and blighted heart hath known,

The highest hope of pride and power,

I feel hath flown.

Of power! said I? Yes! such I ween

But they have vanished long, alas!

The visions of my youth have been

But let them pass.

III

And pride, what have I now with thee?

Another brow may ev’n inherit

The venom thou hast poured on me

Be still my spirit!

IV

The happiest day—the happiest hour

Mine eyes shall see—have ever seen

The brightest glance of pride and power

I feet have been:

V

But were that hope of pride and power

Now offered with the pain

Ev’n then I felt—that brightest hour

I would not live again:

VI

For on its wing was dark alloy

And as it fluttered—fell

An essence—powerful to destroy

A soul that knew it well.

1827.