With stern command to Albert's charge he gave
To waft Palemon o'er the distant wave.
"The ship was laden and prepared to sail,
And only waited now the leading gale: 480
'Twas ours, in that sad period, first to prove
The poignant torments of despairing love,
The impatient wish that never feels repose,
Desire that with perpetual current flows,
The fluctuating pangs of hope and fear,
Joy distant still, and sorrow ever near.
Thus, while the pangs of thought severer grew,
The western breezes inauspicious blew,
Hastening the moment of our last adieu.
The vessel parted on the falling tide, 490
Yet time one sacred hour to love supplied:
The night was silent, and advancing fast,
The moon o'er Thames her silver mantle cast;
Impatient hope the midnight path explored,
And led me to the nymph my soul adored.
Soon her quick footsteps struck my listening ear;
She came confest! the lovely maid drew near!
But, ah! what force of language can impart
The impetuous joy that glow'd in either heart?
O ye! whose melting hearts are form'd to prove 500
The trembling ecstasies of genuine love;
When, with delicious agony, the thought
Is to the verge of high delirium wrought:
Your secret sympathy alone can tell
What raptures then the throbbing bosom swell:
O'er all the nerves what tender tumults roll,