Oh, wast thou with me, dearest, then, While I rose up against my doom, And strove to burst the folded gloom, To bare the eternal Heavens again,
To feel once more, in placid awe, The strong imagination roll A sphere of stars about my soul, In all her motion one with law;
If thou wert with me, and the grave Divide us not, be with me now, And enter in at breast and brow, Till all my blood, a fuller wave,
Be quicken’d with a livelier breath, And like an inconsiderate boy, As in the former flash of joy, I slip the thoughts of life and death;
And all the breeze of Fancy blows, And every dew-drop paints a bow; The wizard lightnings deeply glow, And every thought breaks out a rose.