EBENEZER JONES: REMEMBRANCE OF FEELINGS

Ebenezer Jones
(1820-1860)

Remembrance of Feelings

Oh! never may the heart regain
Past feelings, as the mind may thought;
Departed joy leaves dreariest pain,
But memory of its nature!–nought:
Then cease remembrance to reprove;
I shall forget, alas! too soon,
Not that you gave me leave to love,
But what, the heaven, that was that boon.

I shall forget,–nay! World’s alone!
I shall remember, with dark fear,
With self disgust at all that’s known,
With self-despair’s most lying sneer,–
That this life loved you, and that then
Its ramifacations shot through heaven;
And thrilled with measureless rapture, when
Thereby heaven’s bliss to you seemed driven.

I shall remember I was pure;
Fearlessly loving, ever, the whole;
Sure that eternity’s obscure,
All paradised bright stars did roll,
That bearing you, there I might soar,
The joy in your cheek still wildly eyeing,
Its happiness light yet deepening more,
The more my strength rose, heaven defying.

I shall remember each love scene,
From love’s first dawn, to this wild end;
Your deepening clasp, your rapturous mien,
The murmuring sounds your heart did send;–
Take, take his jewels from your brow;
Bend, if your heart be not cold stone;
And I will whisper to you now,
What the forgettings that I moan.

I shall forget what was that heaven,
Through which my loving life did spread;
I shall forget the bliss me given,
When it seemed you through that heaven I led;
I shall forget how feel the pure,
Though remembering their bliss divine;
How pulsed the life yours did immure,
Though remembering that life was mine.

And these forgetting, all beside
In life, will darken deepening gloom;
The world of these deprived, denied,
Will seem to surge, a reeking tomb;
Such darkness may be truth, but when
We loved, how different dreamed this heart;
Might I recall love’s feelings, then
Perchance the dream might not depart.

Then cease remembering to reprove;
I shall forget, alas! too soon,
Not that you gave me leave to love,
But what, the heaven, that was that boon.
Would, lady! that the heart could gain
Past feelings, as the mind may thought;
The hours might then give up their pain,
And be with memoried raptures fraught.

Ebenezer Jones poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive I-J, CLASSIC POETRY