The happiest day—the happiest hour

My seared and blighted heart hath known,

The highest hope of pride and power,

I feel hath flown.

Of power! said I? Yes! such I ween

But they have vanished long, alas!

The visions of my youth have been—

But let them pass.

And pride, what have I now with thee?

Another brow may ev’n inherit

The venom thou hast poured on me—

Be still my spirit!

The happiest day—the happiest hour

Mine eyes shall see—have ever seen

The brightest glance of pride and power

I feel have been:

But were that hope of pride and power

Now offered with the pain

Ev’n then I felt—that brightest hour

I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy

And as it fluttered—fell

An essence—powerful to destroy

A soul that knew it well.