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I loved thee once! Oh! tell me when was it I loved thee not ? Was’t in my childhood, boyhood, manhood ? Oh! In all of them I loved thee! And, were To live the span of my first life twice told, And then to wither, thou surviving me, And yet I lived in thy sweet memory, Then might'st thou say
“ He loved me once, But that was all his life!”
WILT THOU BE MINE?
If thou 'lt be mine, the treasures of air,
Of earth and sea, shall lie at thy feet ; Whatever in Fancy's eye looks fair,
Or in Hope's sweet music is most sweet, Shall be ours, if thou wilt be mine, love!
Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove,
A voice divine shall talk in each stream, The stars shall look like worlds of love,
And this earth be all one beautiful dream In our eyes, if thou wilt be mine, love!
And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high,
Like streams that come from heavenward hills, Shall keep our hearts — like meads that lie
To be bathed by those eternal rills – Ever
green, if thou wilt be mine, love !
All this and more the Spirit of Love
Can breathe o'er them who feel his spells ! The heaven which forms his home above,
He can make on earth, where'er he dwells, And he will, if thou wilt be mine, love!
It is the spirit's bitterest pain
the breath-stain o'er glass;
the blank Love leaves behind.
Ask some dear thing which may renew
As true as they themselves are true.
But Love's bright fount is never pure,
A prize which they may never win ;
Which found, they may not enter in. And some there are who leave the path
In agony and fierce disdain, And bear
each wounded heart The scar that never heals again.
I am undone ;—there is no living, none,
It were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it, he is so above me ! In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere; The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour, to sit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table ; heart too capable
line and trick of his sweet favour !
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms
Like fairy-gifts fading away; Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou
art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will ; And around the dear ruin each wish of
heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear! Oh! the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets, The same look which she turn'd when he rose !
There are a thousand fanciful things
The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip hath left
Shall never part from mine,
Untainted back to thine.