Beloved! amid the earnest woes
 That crowd around my earthly path-
 (Drear path, alas! where grows
 Not even one lonely rose)-
 My soul at least a solace hath
 In dreams of thee, and therein knows
 An Eden of bland repose.

 And thus thy memory is to me
 Like some enchanted far-off isle
 In some tumultuous sea-
 Some ocean throbbing far and free
 With storms- but where meanwhile
 Serenest skies continually
 Just o'er that one bright island smile.