
Sylvander laments that his allotted time with Clarinda, the mistress of his soul, has ended. Comparing himself to a wretch beneath a dreary pole watching his last sun, he wonders how he can endure the frozen darkness of separation when she is his life, light, and greatest joy. Moved by the tears in her lovely eyes, he vows that no lesser light will guide him until Clarinda’s bright presence returns. Though she has blessed his day as the fairest sun of her sex, he rejects the idea of turning his devotion toward any dimmer, lesser object.
By Robert Burns · First published 1801 · Genre: Lyric Poetry, Love Poetry, Farewell Poetry · 146 words
Clarinda, mistres of my soul, / The measur'd time is run! / The wretch beneath the dreary pole / So marks his latest sun.
To what dark cave of frozen night / Shall poor Sylvander hie; / Depriv'd of thee, his life and light, / The sun of all his joy?
We part-but by these precious drops, / That fill thy lovely eyes, / No other light shall guide my steps, / Till thy bright beams arise!
She, the fair sun of all her sex, / Has blest my glorious day; / And shall a glimmering planet fix / My worship to its ray?
love poetry · Scottish lyric · eighteenth-century poetry · romantic separation · unrequited devotion · farewell · longing · lament · idealized beloved · Clarinda · Sylvander · tears
Clarinda, Mistress of my Soul is listed on Textopian as a poem by Robert Burns, dated 1801 CE.
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