1.
She was to me the pearl that clings
To sands all hid from mortal sight
Yet fit for diadems of kings,
The pure and lovely light.
2.
She was to me the gleam of sun
That breaks the gloom of wintry day
One moment shone my soul upon,
Then passed—how soon!—away.
3.
She was to me the dreams of bliss
That float the dying eyes before,
For one short hour shed happiness,
And fly to bless no more.
4.
O light, again upon me shine;
O pearl, again delight my eyes;
O dreams of bliss, again be mine!—
No! earth may not be Paradise.
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I MUST NOT FORGET TO remark, parenthetically, that the minister’s son, in order to make these lines generally useful, had provided them with a last stanza in triplicate. “For lovers,” he said sagely, “are either in the optative mood, the desperative, or the exultative.” This time he had used the optative. For the desperative he would substitute:
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4.
The joys of life lie dead, lie dead,
The light of day is quenched in gloom
The spark of hope my heart hath fled
What now witholds me from the tomb
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AND THIS WAS THE TERMINATION exultative, as he called it:
4.
O joy I the pearl is mine again,
Once more the day is bright and clear
And now ‘tis real, then ‘twas vain,
My dream of bliss—O heaven is here!
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