Love Without Hope

I cannot cease to love thee, Coldest fair! Though pleading cannot move thee, And I despair.

Thy beauty was diviner, Than the summer moon, And thou didst outshine her, At her noon.

Thy brow was like the silver On the star-lit sea; Thy bright eyes did bewilder All, as me.

Thy motions were the motions Of a charmed bird, As, poised o'er dream-world oceans, His sweet voice is heard.

Thou wast queenlier far Than the queenliest flower, More glorious than a star In a fairy bower.

But it can not move thee, My mad prayer! Though I must ever love thee, Coldest fair!