A lovely form there sate beside my bed,
And such a feeding calm its presence shed,
A tender love so pure from earthly leaven,
That I unnethe the fancy might control,
‘ Twas my own spirit newly come from heaven,
Wooing its gentle way into my soul!
But ah! the change — It had not stirr'd, and yet —
Alas! that change how fain would I forget!
That shrinking back, like one that had mistook!
That weary, wandering, disavowing look!
‘ Twas all another, feature, look, and frame,
And still, methought, I knew, it was the same!