ONE face alone, one face alone, br These eyes require; br But, when that long’d-for sight is shown, br What fatal fire br Shoots through my veins a keen and liquid flame, br That melts each fibre of my wasting frame! br br One voice alone, one voice alone, br I pine to hear; br But, when its meek mellifluous tone br Usurps mine ear, br Those slavish chains about my soul are wound, br Which ne’er, till death itself, can be unbound. br br One gentle hand, one gentle hand, br I fain would hold; br But, when it seems at my command, br My own grows cold; br Then low to earth I bend in sickly swoon, br Like lilies drooping ’mid the blaze of noon.