YOU NEVER KNEW ANNETTE.
I
You praise each youthful form you see,
And love is still your theme;
And when you win no praise from me,
You say how cold I seem.
You know not what it is to pine
With ceaseless vain regret;
You never felt a love like mine,
You never knew Annette.
II
For ever changing, still you rove,
As I in boyhood roved;
But when you tell me this is love,
It proves you never loved.
To many idols you have knelt,
And therefore soon forget;
But what I feel, you never felt,
You never knew Annette.
