I BLAME THEE NOT.
I
Perhaps my tongue but faintly told
The tale it scarcely dared to tell.
Perhaps you thought my manner cold,
Too cold for one who lov'd thee well.
I blame thee not, though false thou art,
I mourn thy faults, but never blam'd;
And though your follies break my heart,
I will not hear those follies nam'd.
II
Why is it, when young hearts adore
One faultless mind, one form, one face,
If love is cross'd, they love no more,
Another ne'er can fill the place?
It is because, in after years,
We seek its counterpart in vain,
Youth quits his dream of love with tears,
And trembles ere he trusts again.
