If Thou Wilt Ease Thine Heart
by Thomas Lovell Beddoes (1803-1849)

If thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,-
            Then sleep, dear, sleep!
And not a sorrow
      Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
            Lie still and deep,
      Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o’ the sun to-morrow,
            In eastern sky,

But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,-
            Then die, dear, die!
’T is deeper, sweeter,
      Than on a rose bank to lie dreaming
            With folded eye;
      And then alone, amid the beaming
Of love’s stars, thou’lt meet her
            In eastern sky.

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