The Flight of Love

WHEN the lamp is shatter'd
     The light in the dust lies dead—
     When the cloud is scatter'd
     The rainbow's glory is shed.
     When the lute is broken
     Sweet tones are remember'd not；
     When the lips have spoken
     Lov'd accents are soon forgot.
     As music and splendour
     Survive not the lamp and the lute
     The heart's echoes render
     No song when the spirit is mute—
     No song but sad dirges
     Like the wind through a ruin'd cell
     Or the mournful surges
     That ring the dead seaman's knell.
     When hearts have once mingl'd
     Love first leaves the well-built nest；
     The weak one is singl'd
     To endure what it once possesst.
     O Love！ who bewailest
     The frailty of all things here
     Why choose you the frailest
     For your cradle your home and your bier？
     Its passions will rock thee
     As the storms rock the ravens on high；
     Bright reason will mock thee
     Like the sun from a wintry sky.
     From thy nest every rafter
     Will rot and thine eagle home
     Leave thee naked to laughter
     When leaves fall and cold winds come.