 | Lyrical and other poems |  |
SONG.
Oh! Time has with unsparing hand
Pluck'd every flow'r that beauty planted;
And spread upon those cheeks, his sand,
Where Love once hung enchanted!
But tho' thou art despised by men,
Life's bitter, cast around thee,
I'll love thee still, the same as when
In early youth, I found thee!
Pluck'd every flow'r that beauty planted;
And spread upon those cheeks, his sand,
Where Love once hung enchanted!
But tho' thou art despised by men,
Life's bitter, cast around thee,
I'll love thee still, the same as when
In early youth, I found thee!
And life has staid its every sweet,
Thy name cannot outlive thee,
Yet for thee still, this heart shall beat
And every throb forgive thee.
And when each servile friend is gone,
That hung but on thy pow'r,
As rainbows when the sun's withdrawn,
Delay no more their show'r:
Thy name cannot outlive thee,
Yet for thee still, this heart shall beat
And every throb forgive thee.
And when each servile friend is gone,
That hung but on thy pow'r,
As rainbows when the sun's withdrawn,
Delay no more their show'r:
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Oh! then there is a heart still thine,
One true, tho' all forsake thee,
Which, tho' it might bid thee pine,
Would die ere it would ache thee:
One that can love, and yet can bear
To view another press thee,
Would die, ere it would cause thee care,
And dying, still would bless thee!
One true, tho' all forsake thee,
Which, tho' it might bid thee pine,
Would die ere it would ache thee:
One that can love, and yet can bear
To view another press thee,
Would die, ere it would cause thee care,
And dying, still would bless thee!
| Lyrical and other poems | |