Text Box: Received 05 May 2002 Today my longing thoughts recall thee here: The landscape glitters, and the sky is clear. So breathes the gentle zephyr’s gale In pity of my grief it seems to fail The silvery Fountains laugh, as from a girl’s Fair throat a broken necklace sheds its pearls. Oh, ‘tis a day like those of our sweet prime, When, stealing pleasures from indulgent Time, We played midst flowers of eye-bewitching hue That bent their heads beneath the drops of dew. Alas, they see me now bereaved of sleep They share my passion and with me they weep Here in her sunny haunt the rose blooms bright Adding new lustre to Aurora’s light And waked by morning beams, yet languid still, The rival lotus doth his perfume spill All stirs in me the memory of that fire Which in my tortured breast will never expire Had death come ere we parted, it had been The best of all days in the world, I ween, And this poor heart, where thou art everything, Would act be fluttering now on Passion’s wing Ah, might the zephyr waft me tenderly Worn out with anguish as I am, to thee O treasure mine, if lover never possessed A treasure! O thou dearest, queenliest! Once, once, we paid the debt of love complete And ran an equal race with eager feet. How true, how blameless was the love I bore, Thou hast forgotten; but I still adore! The paper ye may burn, but what the paper holds ye cannot burn: ‘tis safe within my breast : where I remove it goes with me, alights when I alight, And in my tomb will lie.