The Lone One at the Old Trysting-Place

IT is the twilight hour, and o'er the earthThe softening spells of evening shadows steal.All here is stillness now, and I have comeTo look once more upon this spot, and holdCommunion with the unforgotten past.My heart, all sad and lonely, here would breatheThe silent music that clings round its chords.The perfume from the incense-breathing meadsSteals o'er my spirit, like the fragrance caughtFrom many a broken, pale, and withered flowerOf faded memory. The evening starStill shines above as bright as when it beamed,In eve's long past, a watchfire in the heavens,To guide his steps to me

Ah, here where onceMy young heart knew life's deepest blessings, IWould weep away that heart's remaining youth.Here where 'twas soft and gentle, it should nowLearn to be strong. Years, with their joys and griefs,Have passed away and left this sacred spotUnchanged. The little rustic seat whereErst whiled away the dear and blissful hoursWith Love's low-murmured melodies, is stillAs memory oft has pictured it. AgainMy heart forgets its shadows and its gloom,The tones of love thrill through its depths, and onThe breeze the cadence of his winds is borne;Again my hand within his own is pressed,To his my eyes are turned and drink againThe bliss of that dear smile.

Within my soulSo dark and drear, a light is breaking now,'Tis memory's holy star-gleam, 'tis a lightFrom out the happy past. Deep in my heartThere blooms a single flower, a lonely flowerOf faded recollection, the "last rose"Of joy's departed Summer, a sweet bloomWhose sad pale beauty lingers mournfullyUpon life's darkened waste—it is the bloomOf dear remembered love, and now my heart,My weary heart, finds rapture in this spotOf holy tryst.

But, lo! the roseate tintsHave slowly faded from the Western sky,The mystic lamps of Heaven shine far above,And the pale moonbeams slumber with a wanMysterious light upon this blessed scene.The falling dews are heavy on my hair,Whilst tears, delicious tears, are welling upFrom my heart's shadowed fount

I am aloneWith God and with His holy messengersThat guard this sacred place. A soft low prayerIs gently stirring all my heart's young leaves,And breathing from my lips. Oh I would askFor him a charmed existence. I would askThat on my life the shadows lengtheningIn their decline might rest, so he be sparedA single sorrow. Let the blessed beamShine on him, and the shadow hang o'er me.My life within the "vale of shadows" e'erMust lie, but oh may his be on the bright,Sun-lighted mount, and from my lowly home,With outstretched arms and yearning heart, I'll liftMy soul to pierce the cloud-gloom, and to gazeWith love and tears on him.

Sweet spot, farewell!Take these, my breaking heart's wild, burning tearsAs its deep blessing. Take my stifled sobsAs tokens of my parting agony.The holy light of love that ever burnsWithin my soul on memory's sacred shrine,Has gathered brightness and intensityFrom this lone eve's communion. Dearest spot,Farewell! farewell! I may not see thee more.