The Sovereignty Of Love Poem by Charlotte Dacre

AH, mock not me! for you have never lov'd,
Nor have you e'er, like me, its sorrows prov'd,
Nor have you e'er, like me, its pleasures tasted;
In languid medium all your life has wasted.
No transport wild your soul has ever fir'd,
Whether by bliss or agony inspir'd;
No swift transition from despair to joy
Did e'er your soul's harmonic tones destroy;
No fever'd passion that, like mine, has burn'd,
The even current of your blood e'er turn'd:
Listless and cool each sober hour has pass'd,
While mine in feeling various have been cast.
O! I have lov'd to such a mad excess,
No thought can reach, nor any words express:
Refining on my love, I so have stray'd,
Fancy has languish'd on the rack she made!
How oft the solitary shade I've sought,
To brood with pleasure o'er my own fond thought!
Reason has stagger'd on her trembling throne,
And wild imagination reign'd alone.
Beyond this earth my soaring hopes aspire;
Death SHALL not quench true passion's sacred fire!
Ethereal essence from the grave shall rise,
And conscious souls claim kindred in the skies!
Oh, Memory! well I with thine aid can trace
My hero's beauty and his manly grace.
How oft his bosom hath my pillow been!
How oft repress'd the starting tear I've seen,
When sad remembrance would his smile destroy,
And thoughts of absence blast his rising joy!
I lov'd him! yes, my throbbing heart well knows,
And, conscious, with increas'd emotion glows—
Yes, with keen ardour have I fondly lov'd—
Dearly my truth and passion have I prov'd;
No future hope, no joy have thought so great,
That on Love's shrine I would not immolate.
Yet, in return, I mistress sole would be,
No joy, no hope, but must depend on me;
My frown must sink, my smile must elevate,
My wish be law, and my command be fate.
I ev'ry sense, I ev'ry nerve must sway,
And, only touch'd by me, each passion play:
No second object must have power to move—
I suffer no competitor in love;
But, like the polar star in gloomy night,
Must lead alone, by my superior light.
Such my desire! nor less contents my soul,
And such I once possess'd, in gay controul.
No madd'ning jealousy! no doubts, no fears,
No weak complaining, nor no woman's tears,
No mild reproaches, no degrading grief!
E'er pain'd, then left my soul without relief;
I felt pre-eminent, my power I knew,
And from that knowledge all my passion grew.
Could I then think upon a newer lover?
Or waste a thought upon some wand'ring rover
No—solitary, sad my life shall fade,
No languid pref'rence e'er my heart invade.
Retiring, scornful, sceptical, unblest,
No second love my first shall ever wrest;
Depriv'd of him, his memory shall retain
The fond, proud heart he only knew to gain.