AN APOLOGY The complete works of N.P. Willis | ||
AN APOLOGY
For avoiding, after long separation, a woman once loved.
See me no more on earth, I pray,
Thy picture, in my memory now,0
Is fair as morn, and fresh as May!
Few were as beautiful as thou!
Thy picture, in my memory now,0
Is fair as morn, and fresh as May!
Few were as beautiful as thou!
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And still I see that willowy form —
And still that cheek like roses dyed —
And still that dark eye, deep and warm —
Thy look of love — thy step of pride! —
Thy memory is a star to me,
More bright as day-beams fade and flee.
But thou, indeed! — Ah! years have fled,
And thou, like others, changed the while —
For joy upon the lip lies dead
If pain but cloud the sunny smile!
And care will make the roses pale,
And tears will soil the lily's whiteness,
And ere life's lamp begins to fail
The eye forgets its trick of brightness!
Look for the rose of dawn at noon,
And weep for beauty — lost as soon!
Cold words that hide the envious thought!
I could not bear thy face to see —
But oh, 'tis not that time has wrought
A change in features dear to me!
No! had it been my lot to share
The fragrance of the flower decay'd —
If I had borne but half the care
That on thy brow its burden laid —
If in my love thou'dst burn'd away,
The ashes still had warm'd the heart so cold to-day!
And still that cheek like roses dyed —
And still that dark eye, deep and warm —
Thy look of love — thy step of pride! —
Thy memory is a star to me,
More bright as day-beams fade and flee.
But thou, indeed! — Ah! years have fled,
And thou, like others, changed the while —
For joy upon the lip lies dead
If pain but cloud the sunny smile!
And care will make the roses pale,
And tears will soil the lily's whiteness,
And ere life's lamp begins to fail
The eye forgets its trick of brightness!
Look for the rose of dawn at noon,
And weep for beauty — lost as soon!
Cold words that hide the envious thought!
I could not bear thy face to see —
But oh, 'tis not that time has wrought
A change in features dear to me!
No! had it been my lot to share
The fragrance of the flower decay'd —
If I had borne but half the care
That on thy brow its burden laid —
If in my love thou'dst burn'd away,
The ashes still had warm'd the heart so cold to-day!
AN APOLOGY The complete works of N.P. Willis | ||