The Only One Whom, Lida, Thou Canst Love, Thou Claim'St, And Rightly Claim'St, For Only Thee; He Too Is Wholly Thine; Since Doomed To Rove Far From Thee, In Life'S Turmoils Nought I See Save A Thin Veil, Through Which Thy Form I View, As Though In Clouds; With Kindly Smile And True, It Cheers Me, Like The Stars Eterne That Gleam Across The Northern-Lights' Far-Flick'Ring Beam.