If Thou Wilt Ease Thine Heart
by: Thomas Lovell Beddoes (1803 - 1849)
If thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,--
Then sleep, dear, sleep!
And not a sorrow
Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
Lie still and deep,
Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' the sun to-morrow,
In eastern sky,
But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,--
Then die, dear, die!
'T is deeper, sweeter,
Than on a rose bank to lie dreaming
With folded eye;
And then alone, amid the beaming
Of love's stars, thou'lt meet her
In eastern sky.
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