THOU ART THAT ONE.
I
He loves not like me who has lov'd more than one;
If false thou could'st be, still all others I'd shun.
Though broken in spirit my solace should be
To think that I merit more kindness from thee.
Then oh, do not say though I lov'd thee to-day,
Affection will die when I'm far, far away.
My eyes may see many, my heart will love none,
Excepting one only, and thou art that one.
II
He loves not like me, when his first love is lost,
Who shudders to see things she valued the most;
Who shrinks from the music that she used to sing,
Avoiding the garden she decked in the spring.
If thou wert unkind, it would soothe me to find
Some relic that call'd up the past to my mind.
The tears that would flow, less than smiles would I shun,
Still loving one only, and thou art that one.
