 | The Poems of John Rollin Ridge -- A reproduction of the 1868
publication plus fugitive poems and notes. |  |
MY LOST LOVE
I saw her when my heart was young,
And she was beautiful and fair,
With silver music on her tongue,
And golden glory in her hair;
And all love's glances round her flung,
And Eve's first sweetness in her air.
And she was beautiful and fair,
With silver music on her tongue,
And golden glory in her hair;
And all love's glances round her flung,
And Eve's first sweetness in her air.
I saw her 'mid the giddy throng
My bosom filled with wild romance;
T'was she who sang the sweetest song,
And she the stateliest in the dance..
Oh, could her heart to me belong,
Her kisses warm my soul entrance!
My bosom filled with wild romance;
T'was she who sang the sweetest song,
And she the stateliest in the dance..
Oh, could her heart to me belong,
Her kisses warm my soul entrance!
I saw her by the wildwood stream,
Where swung the lilies tall and pale,
And roses kissed the sunny beam,
And by their blushes told the tale--
And rose and lily (love the theme)
Upon her check did grow and fail.
Where swung the lilies tall and pale,
And roses kissed the sunny beam,
And by their blushes told the tale--
And rose and lily (love the theme)
Upon her check did grow and fail.
"That rose's image in the wave,''
She said, ''how sweet, reflected there!
Yet one rude gale it cannot brave,
But scattered all its beauties are.''
''Its perfume still the flower shall save
Which lives on shore, and bless the air.''
She said, ''how sweet, reflected there!
Yet one rude gale it cannot brave,
But scattered all its beauties are.''
''Its perfume still the flower shall save
Which lives on shore, and bless the air.''
''It too shall pass,'' she sadly said.
I could not reason with her mood,
But felt the shadow of her dread
E'en in that summer solitude.
Oh, Heaven, shelter that dear head,
Though flowers may die in this lone wood!
I could not reason with her mood,
But felt the shadow of her dread
E'en in that summer solitude.
Oh, Heaven, shelter that dear head,
Though flowers may die in this lone wood!
I saw her when the dawning Day
Was sculpturing from the silent night,
Her white and stainless form ; each ray
Revealed new raptures to my sight,
And, as the darkness fell away,
My arms enfolded all delight.
Was sculpturing from the silent night,
Her white and stainless form ; each ray
Revealed new raptures to my sight,
And, as the darkness fell away,
My arms enfolded all delight.
I saw her in another's arms!
Oh, Death, within thy cold embrace.
The lily's bloom, the rose's charms
Affrighted from that fairest face.
Oh, cruel is the fate which harms
What God himself can ne'er replace.
Oh, Death, within thy cold embrace.
The lily's bloom, the rose's charms
Affrighted from that fairest face.
Oh, cruel is the fate which harms
What God himself can ne'er replace.
I saw her next-alas, no more!
How desolate a soul can be!
I wandered to the streamlet's shore,
No rose nor lily could I see;
Yet fell a voice: "To thee no more
I come, but thou shalt come to me."
How desolate a soul can be!
I wandered to the streamlet's shore,
No rose nor lily could I see;
Yet fell a voice: "To thee no more
I come, but thou shalt come to me."
| The Poems of John Rollin Ridge -- A reproduction of the 1868
publication plus fugitive poems and notes. | |