64. A Blight
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WHAT time my heart unfolded its fresh leaves |
| In springtime gay, and scatter'd flowers around, |
| A whisper warn'd of earth's unhealthy ground, |
And all that there love's light and pureness
grieves; |
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Sun's ray and canker-worm, |
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And sudden-whelming storm;— |
But, ah! my self-will smiled, nor reck'd the
gracious sound. |
So now defilement dims life's memory-springs; |
| I cannot hear an early-cherish'd strain, |
| But first a joy, and then it brings a pain— |
| Fear, and self-hate, and vain remorseful stings: |
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Tears lull my grief to rest, |
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Not without hope, this breast |
May one day lose its load, and youth yet bloom
again. |
Lazaret, Malta.
January 19, 1833. |