I LOVED HIM, BUT I LEFT HIM.
I
I loved him, but I left him! 'twas a cruel day for me,
They said he had another bride who dwelt far o'er the sea;
They said I was no wife to him, altho' I bore his name;
And I left him, tho' I loved him; oh! was I then to blame?
I heard him spurn the rumour, how happy was my heart;
I bade him prove his innocence, and urged him to depart;
And as he went, I smiling said: “I have not been deceiv'd;
“Oh, say thou hast no other wife!”—He said—and I believ'd!
II
He kiss'd me when he left me, and his tears fell on my cheek.
I bade him call me “Wife” again—he wept—and could not speak;
I saw him go without a tear, tears would have look'd like dread,
And if misgivings chill'd my heart, still not one tear I shed!
I smiling wav'd my hand to him, as on the beach I knelt,
I veil'd from ev'ry friendly eye the agony I felt;
'Twas in the solitude of home that secretly I griev'd,
For one whose truth I would have given worlds to have believ'd.
III
He came not—and he comes not—and I look not for him now;
I am no bride—altho' I heard him breathe a bridal vow;
I am not guilty, yet I shun the eyes of all I meet,
And feel like a deceiver, tho' the victim of deceit!
He has another happy home—my story, whisper'd there,
Might teach a fond confiding heart to doubt,—and to despair!
Oh, may she never hear my name! may he be still believ'd;
And never see the grave of her, who loved—and was deceiv'd!
