Heath flowers being a collection of poems, chiefly lyrical, written in the Highlands. By William Glen |
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THE ADIEU. |
 | Heath flowers |  |
60
THE ADIEU.
My fond heart, be still, tho' thy mate was untrue,
Throb not when thou bidst an eternal adieu;
For the heart linked to thee hath broken the chain,
And is not worth a throb, save the throb of disdain.
Throb not when thou bidst an eternal adieu;
For the heart linked to thee hath broken the chain,
And is not worth a throb, save the throb of disdain.
Yet Jane, as the fond recollections flit by,
A tear-drop, unbidden, will swell in mine eye;
For I still thought thee mine, till that sorrowful day
When the son of the stranger enticed thee away.
A tear-drop, unbidden, will swell in mine eye;
For I still thought thee mine, till that sorrowful day
When the son of the stranger enticed thee away.
May thy heart from the sad pangs of sorrow be free,
May it dance wild with joy, tho' it throbs not for me;
It beats for that youth, whom, with soul-melting glow,
Thou nightly enclaspst to thy bosom of snow.
May it dance wild with joy, tho' it throbs not for me;
It beats for that youth, whom, with soul-melting glow,
Thou nightly enclaspst to thy bosom of snow.
May thy joy-thrilling thoughts on me never rove,
To sadden the dying delirium of love;
And when thy white arm round his neck may entwine,
O! ne'er for a moment believe it is mine.
To sadden the dying delirium of love;
And when thy white arm round his neck may entwine,
O! ne'er for a moment believe it is mine.
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If my image before thee in night visions swims,
O! name me not, Jane, as ye start from thy dreams;
For should thy mate hear thee, he'd turn from thy kiss,
And he'd leap from thy arms in the moment of bliss.
O! name me not, Jane, as ye start from thy dreams;
For should thy mate hear thee, he'd turn from thy kiss,
And he'd leap from thy arms in the moment of bliss.
For years I have loved thee, I tell it thee now,
Unheeding the frown on thy husband's dark brow;
But that love hath fled—thou, Jane, art untrue,
And I sigh, as I bid an eternal adieu.
Unheeding the frown on thy husband's dark brow;
But that love hath fled—thou, Jane, art untrue,
And I sigh, as I bid an eternal adieu.
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