 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
75
THOU CAM'ST
Thou cam'st, when pleasure lit my eye,
And Hope's ray was unclouded—
Ere yet my cruel destiny,
Life's face in gloom had shrouded—
Thou cam'st, and rapture linger'd near,
Upon thy lip reposing;
Like birds, that fill with songs the air,
When morning is unclosing.
And Hope's ray was unclouded—
Ere yet my cruel destiny,
Life's face in gloom had shrouded—
Thou cam'st, and rapture linger'd near,
Upon thy lip reposing;
Like birds, that fill with songs the air,
When morning is unclosing.
Thou cam'st, and love till then unknown,
In am'rous fondness found me;
He made my bosom all his own,
And scatter'd sweets around me:
He lit my heart with many a joy,
And tuned each string to gladness,
'Till reason came, and soon the alloy,
Gave uncontrolled sadness.
In am'rous fondness found me;
He made my bosom all his own,
And scatter'd sweets around me:
He lit my heart with many a joy,
And tuned each string to gladness,
'Till reason came, and soon the alloy,
Gave uncontrolled sadness.
Thou com'st not now—no longer move
Those pulses—joy bestowing,
To meet the genial arms of love,
With more than passion glowing.
I sought the apartment dim and lone,
Where ever I have met thee—
There stands thy untouch'd harp, whose tone,
But bids my heart regret thee.
Those pulses—joy bestowing,
To meet the genial arms of love,
With more than passion glowing.
I sought the apartment dim and lone,
Where ever I have met thee—
There stands thy untouch'd harp, whose tone,
But bids my heart regret thee.
And this may pain thy woman-pride,
To know, the heart that lov'd thee,
Would, uncomplaining, still have died,
Ere yet it had reproved thee!
Yet may thy bosom's happiness,
With him that thou hast taken,
Teach mine to feel its torture less,
Tho' in itself forsaken!
To know, the heart that lov'd thee,
76
Ere yet it had reproved thee!
Yet may thy bosom's happiness,
With him that thou hast taken,
Teach mine to feel its torture less,
Tho' in itself forsaken!
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