 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
298
I WILL NOT LOVE THEE.
I will not love thee; I have ever cast
Too many passion-flowers on life's dark tide,
Then, like a truant school-boy, idly passed
My vacant hours to watch them onward glide.
Too many passion-flowers on life's dark tide,
Then, like a truant school-boy, idly passed
My vacant hours to watch them onward glide.
I will not love thee; why should I reope
My bosom's secret treasury for thee,
And cull its richest gems, without one hope
To see them shine amid thy blazonry?
My bosom's secret treasury for thee,
And cull its richest gems, without one hope
To see them shine amid thy blazonry?
I will not love thee; thou shalt never find
My hopes to thee, like incense, offered up;
I will not fling sweet odors to the wind,
Or melt another pearl in passion's cup.
My hopes to thee, like incense, offered up;
I will not fling sweet odors to the wind,
Or melt another pearl in passion's cup.
I will not love thee; though I know thee all
That women envy and that men adore,
Though on my brow thy smiles like sunbeams fall,
My heart must worship, but must love no more.
That women envy and that men adore,
Though on my brow thy smiles like sunbeams fall,
My heart must worship, but must love no more.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |