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.