The Magnetic Lady to Her Patient
'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;My hand is on thy brow,My spirit on thy brain;My pity on thy heart, poor friend;And from my fingers flowThe powers of life, and like a sign,Seal thee from thine hour of woe;And brood on thee, but may not blendWith thine.
'Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not;But when I think that heWho made and makes my lotAs full of flowers as thine of weeds,Might have been lost like thee;And that a hand which was not mineMight then have charmed his agonyAs I another's--my heart bleedsFor thine.
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber ofThe dead and the unbornForget thy life and love;Forget that thou must wake forever;Forget the world's dull scorn;Forget lost health, and the divineFeelings which died in youth's brief morn;And forget me, for I can neverBe thine.
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,My soul weeps healing rainOn thee, thou withered flower!It breathes mute music on thy sleepIts odour calms thy brain!Its light within thy gloomy breastSpreads like a second youth again.By mine thy being is to its deepPossessed.
'The spell is done. How feel you now?''Better--Quite well,' repliedThe sleeper.--'What would doYou good when suffering and awake?What cure your head and side?--''What would cure, that would kill me, Jane:And as I must on earth abideAwhile, yet tempt me not to breakMy chain.'
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