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19. | XIX. LET HIM GO. |
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Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||
XIX. LET HIM GO.
Let him go! If a smile could Love's sever'd chain rivet—
If a sigh could recall him—I'd die ere I'd give it.
If a sigh could recall him—I'd die ere I'd give it.
Let him go! He shall learn how a woman's deep pride,
Once roused, can o'ermaster all passions beside.
Once roused, can o'ermaster all passions beside.
While I girlishly trusted each vow that he said,
A word could have won me, a look could have led.
A word could have won me, a look could have led.
For pliant and light, as a flower to the air,
Is woman's fond spirit to kindness and care.
Is woman's fond spirit to kindness and care.
But now—not a tear, not a shade shall discover
One trace of my grief to my false-hearted lover.
One trace of my grief to my false-hearted lover.
And now—the proud star, that beams purest on high,
Shall stoop at his bidding as easy as I.
Shall stoop at his bidding as easy as I.
Let him go! If a smile could Love's sever'd chain rivet—
If a sigh could recall him—I'd die ere I'd give it.
If a sigh could recall him—I'd die ere I'd give it.
Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||