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52. | LII. DOST DEEM MY LOVE SO LIGHT A BOON. |
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Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||
407
LII. DOST DEEM MY LOVE SO LIGHT A BOON.
Dost deem my love so light a boon,
That thou mayst throw it idly by,
As winds may waft a flower at noon,
And leave it low at night to die?
That thou mayst throw it idly by,
As winds may waft a flower at noon,
And leave it low at night to die?
By all my spirit's pain and strife,
By all the hopes that now reward thee,
Thy proudest boast in after life
Shall be that I—that I adored thee!
By all the hopes that now reward thee,
Thy proudest boast in after life
Shall be that I—that I adored thee!
Not mine the brow to droop in grief,
Not mine the soul to pine alone;
The pang, though passionate, is brief—
The doubt is o'er—the dream has flown.
Not mine the soul to pine alone;
The pang, though passionate, is brief—
The doubt is o'er—the dream has flown.
The love of one so light of heart
Were scarcely worth one fond regret;
All is not lost, although we part;
The pearl in Life's cup sparkles yet.
Were scarcely worth one fond regret;
All is not lost, although we part;
The pearl in Life's cup sparkles yet.
Some chords there are of Love's sweet lyre,
Thy false hand knew not how to play:
Some gleams remain of Feeling's fire—
Thou couldst not all my heart betray.
Thy false hand knew not how to play:
Some gleams remain of Feeling's fire—
Thou couldst not all my heart betray.
I'll win a name from wayward Fame,
That thou shalt hear with fond regret;
The heart thy falsehood left to shame,
Shall find some glorious solace yet!
That thou shalt hear with fond regret;
408
Shall find some glorious solace yet!
Yes, by this moment's pain and strife,
By all the vows I have restored thee,
Thy dearest boast, in after life,
Shall be that I—that I adored thee!
By all the vows I have restored thee,
Thy dearest boast, in after life,
Shall be that I—that I adored thee!
Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | ||