My Hour Is Not Yet Come! - These Burning Eyes Have Not Yet Look'D Their Last! - Else, 'Mid The Roar Of This Wild Storm, What Gloomy Joy To Pour My Freed, Exhaling Soul! - Sublime To Rise, Rend The Conflicting Clouds, Inflame The Skies, And Lash The Torrents! - Bending To Explore Our Evening Seat, My Straining Eye Once More Roves The Wide Watry Waste; - But Nought Descries Save The Pale Flood, O'Erwhelming As It Strays. Yet Oh! Lest My Remorseless Fate Decree That All I Love, With Life'S Extinguish'D Rays Sink From My Soul, To Soothe This Agony, To Balm That Life, Whose Loss May Forfeit Thee, Come Dear Remembrance Of Departed Days!