OH! AM I NOT A LOVER STILL.
I
Oh! am I not a lover still;
In heart and soul the same,
As when I sought your bower first,
And learn'd to breathe your name?
Oh! look I not as proud of you?
Oh! speak I not as kind?
And, when I leave you, do I not
Leave joy itself behind?
II
The love I offer'd long ago
Is but matured by time:
As tendrils round their chosen bough
Cling closer as they climb.
Then am I not a lover still;
In heart and soul the same,
As when I sought your bower first,
And learn'd to breathe your name?