And were they but for this, those passionate schemes
Of joy, that I have nursed? indeed for this
That longings, day and night, have filled my dreams?
Now it has come, the hour of bliss,
How different it seems!
So thought I bitterly: but on my bed
As I lay lone and restless, in my ear,
Falling from some far place of peace o'erhead
Through the still dark, I seemed to hear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem