But once I dared to lift my eyes -
To lift my eyes to thee;
And since that day, beneath the skies,
No other sight they see.
In vain sleep shuts them in the night -
The night grows day to me;
Presenting idly to my sight
What still a dream must be.
A fatal dream - for many a bar
Divides thy fate from mine;
And still my passions wake and war,
But peace be still with thine.
[First published, New Monthly Magazine, 1833, vol. 37, p. 308.]