Cohasset Poem by Maria Frances Cecilia Cowper

The days are sped, and never shall return,
Days of deep joy, which Helen did beguile
Wide her sweet presence and enchanting smile
That could the veriest Hell to Heaven turn.
The days are sped ! God give me grace to learn
The lesson of her cheerfulness, the while
There stretches out before me, mile on mile
My lonely road. She will no more return.
Yet, though a dreary life before me lies,
Though I am dead henceforth to blame or praise,
And live but in past memories, mine eyes
Have looked on Heaven itself for six whole days ;
Nor life nor death can rob me of my prize,
This glorious memory that is mine always.
She sits beside me by the murmuring sea,
The weary king of heaven his course has run,
The earth lies hushed in silent reverie,
The sad, pale moon hangs in the southern sky
Watching the downfall of her lord, the sun ;
All nature is at peace, and night is nigh.
And tender words are rising to my lips ;
Alas, I may not breathe them in her ear,
Nor tell her of my love : and now as dips
The blood red sun beneath the western wave.
So sink my dying hopes : she must not hear
The secret I shall carry to the grave.
Yet I may love her still, and strive to make
This sorry world in which my days are past
A little happier for her sweet sake ;
May consecrate my life to her, and keep
Her image in my heart, until at last
Kind Death enshrouds me in the mists of sleep.