 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
272
ONCE FROM GAY FOLLY'S PATHS.
Once from gay Folly's paths you turned,
And filled with tenderest Memories burned—
With thoughts of Times destroyed—
Times when your heart was warm and true,
And but Love's hallowed joy you knew—
To these you turned and sighed!
And filled with tenderest Memories burned—
With thoughts of Times destroyed—
Times when your heart was warm and true,
And but Love's hallowed joy you knew—
To these you turned and sighed!
And Hope once more played round my heart,
Too ready still to take your part,
And deem you pure and good;
Alas! 'twas but a little while
I basked in its delightful smile,
Soon changed your fickle mood.
Too ready still to take your part,
And deem you pure and good;
Alas! 'twas but a little while
I basked in its delightful smile,
Soon changed your fickle mood.
273
Soon, soon did you relapse again,
And shine the first in Folly's train—
And I again despaired—
And darker shadows frown'd around,
In chains yet heavier was I bound,
And worse, far worse I fared!
And shine the first in Folly's train—
And I again despaired—
And darker shadows frown'd around,
In chains yet heavier was I bound,
And worse, far worse I fared!
Go on—go on in thy career
Of Folly now, nor more appear
What thou appeared'st before!
Be careless still—indifferent—vain,
But be not like thyself again—
Oh, be thyself no more!
Of Folly now, nor more appear
What thou appeared'st before!
Be careless still—indifferent—vain,
But be not like thyself again—
Oh, be thyself no more!
All griefs but that I still can bear,
And meekly bow to my Despair—
But there—oh! there I fail;
I loved so well—thou wert so dear—
To see thee like thyself appear,
Yet know thee false and frail—
And meekly bow to my Despair—
But there—oh! there I fail;
I loved so well—thou wert so dear—
To see thee like thyself appear,
Yet know thee false and frail—
274
Oh! that is worse than any woe
Which Fortune can inflict below,
'Tis Mockery, Madness, Death!
And well I feel—and know that thou
Who once have broke Love's hallowed vow,
Can ne'er breathe Truth's pure breath!
Which Fortune can inflict below,
'Tis Mockery, Madness, Death!
And well I feel—and know that thou
Who once have broke Love's hallowed vow,
Can ne'er breathe Truth's pure breath!
Well, well and painfully I know
That those who once can hardened grow,
Must hardened still remain;
Remain then thus, and never more
Seem to be as thou wert before—
Seem like thyself again!
That those who once can hardened grow,
Must hardened still remain;
Remain then thus, and never more
Seem to be as thou wert before—
Seem like thyself again!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |