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Songs and ballads

By Charles Swain
 

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LOVE'S HISTORY.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


49

LOVE'S HISTORY.

By sylvan waves that westward flow,
A harebell bent its beauty low,
With slender waist and modest brow,
Amidst the shades descending—
A star looked from the paler sky,
The harebell gazed, and with a sigh
Forgot that love may look too high,
And sorrow without ending.
By casement hid, the flowers among,
A maiden leaned and listened long;
It was the hour of love and song,
And early night-birds calling:
A barque across the river drew;—
The rose was glowing through and through
The maiden's cheek of trembling hue,
Amidst the twilight falling.
She saw no star, she saw no flower,
Her heart expanded to the hour;
She recked not of her lowly dower
Amidst the shades descending:
With love thus fixed upon a height
That seemed so beauteous to the sight,
How could she think of wrong and blight,
And sorrow without ending?

50

The harebell drooped beneath the dew,
And closed its eye of tender blue;
No sun could e'er its life renew,
Nor star, in music calling:
The autumn leaves were early shed,
But earlier on her cottage bed
The maiden's loving heart lay dead,
Amidst the twilight falling!