PHANTOM OR FACT

A lovely form there sate beside my bed,

And such a feeding calm its presence shed,

A tender love so pure from earthly leaven,

That I unnethe the fancy might control,

‘ Twas my own spirit newly come from heaven,

Wooing its gentle way into my soul!

But ah! the change — It had not stirr'd, and yet —

Alas! that change how fain would I forget!

That shrinking back, like one that had mistook!

That weary, wandering, disavowing look!

‘ Twas all another, feature, look, and frame,

And still, methought, I knew, it was the same!