The Sunday Ode

So, farewell, my sweet love,
I fear the hour has come;
My world has come to naught;
and it is time for me to depart
From the once enchanting isle
of your beauteous charms
That ever held me rapturous
and entranced in divine love;
To set sails again and, without adieu,
leave unbidden to seek new shores unknown
And break my heart 'pon its pebbled beach,
and, in solitude's arms,
grieve the love I was never fortuned to know.
Once did I stand on lofty steeps,
brimming with bliss with each sweet kiss;
Once did I see in each dusky sunset,
the bright dawn of a new sun's bliss;
Once did I discern your eyes blaze afire
and heard in your voice the sweetest lyre;
Once did I bear within my breast,
the blooming violets your heart inspired;
Once did I savour the incense and myrrh,
glow in perfumed love's candle fire;
Once was I blessed with love's ambrosia
which I imbibed to the full
with insatiable desire;
Then at hopes' zenith the garland drooped,
'n wilted violets now lie strewn sans glee;
And the crushed flowers cannot believe
what fate's malice unleashed for them and for me.
Now the aroma has vanished, the candle has blown
and the sun has sunk to its own abode;
And the brooding clouds
have eclipsed love's star; and here,
sans love, sans hope, in darkness,
I stand shrouded alone;
Clinging, in wretched woe,
the wreckage that haunts my tormented soul
till I my love atone.
So farewell, sweet princess,
I fathom my time has come to end
love's whirlwind dance;
And know those tender moments
of blessed love I shared,
I'll never again ever romance;

And know once more upon these stormy seas,
will I toss and turn, suffer the sorrow in me;
But, yet whatever the grief engulfing me,
in every red rosed dream
that comes unsought to me
You still come, softly and whisper
to this forlorn breaking heart in me :
"Love me not, do not besought,
the love you think you hear,
the love that beats deeply in me".
I then discern, in that inner voice,
stemming from your inner core,
expressing love's frightful fear;
To be or not to be, to love or not to love,
whether the price is worth
the sacrifice for us together bear;
Though it echoes in my ear,
though my heart refuses to hear,
and though my soul's 'pon the bier
Yet within this heart that loved
and loves you so, I wish you well
and, though in hell,
I say a poignant prayer with tear:
that may each prayer in each saints prayer,
pray a heaven of love for you.
And pray, with every fibre in my soul,
that through the fire our love will ever soar:
a love everlasting, a love eternal,
a love forever true.
And in my exile pray
love's lost star will shine anew.