 | Julia Alpinula |  |
224
AFTER THE SPANISH.
1
Sweet maid! I leaned in life's young bloom,Upon a spirit warm as thine,
And dreamt, how could I dream its doom
Would ever so respond to mine?
Trembling, I touched my light guitar,
As now—to please her listening ear,
And thought, how could I think the star
Of love in her dark eye sincere?
225
2
I flung my holiest rosaryAround her neck, the white veil under,
And thought the beads would ever be
By other hands unbroke asunder.
I gave as flourishing a leaf
As those which thy white roses shade,
And giving, said, “I'm sure no thief
Will e'er my blossomed flowers invade.”
3
But song—flowers—rosary—all are gone!The ear that listened, lips that prais'd!
And of my many hopes, not one
But perished in the flame they rais'd.
Gifts, long refused, I oft could see
She took with smiles, but now 'tis plain
These were not given in pain for me,
But pride of power in giving pain.
226
4
I wish that thou indeed wert sheBy whom those early smiles were given,
For then, I know, from pleasure's tree
My young buds had not all been riven.
For kind and mild thy spirit is,
And holy are the tears thou givest,
And oh! 'tis something near to bliss,
To know that 'tis for me thou grievest.
5
But dry those dear, subduing eyes,Or stormier grief will gush from mine,
Yet, when away, my heart will prize
Each drop that overflows from thine.
Not when away, not when away,
Oh no! I could not bear to see
The tender sentiment decay
That speaks of sympathy from thee.
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6
But we must part, and I must passTo mingle with the crowd again,
And strive, in hollow mirth, alas—
How vainly! to forget my pain.
But shunned or sought, in smiles or tears,
Howe'er my soul may droop and pine,
'Twill half be happy, since it bears,
Dear maid! the thrilling stamp of thine.
| Julia Alpinula | |