 | The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard |  |
315
THE PROUD LOVER.
I never yet could understand
How men could love in vain;
I hold it weak and wrong to love,
And not be loved again.
For me, I must have heart for heart,
Deny me that, and we must part.
How men could love in vain;
I hold it weak and wrong to love,
And not be loved again.
For me, I must have heart for heart,
Deny me that, and we must part.
There be who love, or think they love,
Without return for years;
They waste their days in fruitless sighs,
Their nights in hopeless tears
Not such am I, my heart is free,
I love not her who loves not me.
Without return for years;
They waste their days in fruitless sighs,
Their nights in hopeless tears
Not such am I, my heart is free,
I love not her who loves not me.
| The poems of Richard Henry Stoddard | |