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3
'TWAS COMING FROM THE VILLAGE CHURCH.
'Twas coming from the Village Church
I saw my false love nigh,
I said—Oh! shame me not, my heart,
But let me pass him by.
And so the colour left my cheek,
The tear forsook mine eye;
And with a timid step, and weak,
I pass'd my false love by.
I saw my false love nigh,
I said—Oh! shame me not, my heart,
But let me pass him by.
And so the colour left my cheek,
The tear forsook mine eye;
And with a timid step, and weak,
I pass'd my false love by.
4
He look'd—and thought, perchance, to see
The blush and tear of old;
But I was cold as he could be—
That is, I seem'd as cold!
For fast and fast my heart did fill,
Mine eyes could hold no more,—
He might have seen I lov'd him still,
Had I not gain'd the door.
The blush and tear of old;
But I was cold as he could be—
That is, I seem'd as cold!
For fast and fast my heart did fill,
Mine eyes could hold no more,—
He might have seen I lov'd him still,
Had I not gain'd the door.
I hurried to my own dear room,
I knelt me down to pray,
But still no firmness could assume,
My tears they would have way:
Oh! false, false lips,—oh! faithless part—
Oh! base, unmanly aim—
To seek for years to win a heart,
Then make its love—its shame!
I knelt me down to pray,
But still no firmness could assume,
My tears they would have way:
Oh! false, false lips,—oh! faithless part—
Oh! base, unmanly aim—
To seek for years to win a heart,
Then make its love—its shame!
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