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Metrical essays

on subjects of history and imagination. By Charles Swain
 
 

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135

STANZAS FOR MUSIC.

I

Forget not, forget not my beautiful one,
All thy vows of affection are mine;
O! when far from the light of thy love I am gone,
Should another bend low at thy shrine,
Should he pour forth his treasures of gold at thy feet,
Urge with passionate tears thy decree—
Then say will thy bosom still faithfully beat
With its first owned devotion to me?

136

II

Believe not, believe not, my beautiful one,
The cold world, should it load me with blame—
O! the heart where the sun of thy love hath once shone
Can ne'er glow 'neath a less holy flame:
Then never, love, never, give heed to the tongue
Which may cast its dark venom on me;
But recal my deep truth in our past hours of song,
And, as then, deem me still,—true to thee!