 | [Poems by Payne in] John Howard Payne ... his life and writings |  |
322
VALENTINE.
TO A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG ACTRESS.
There is a heart, (I dare not say
Where that heart dwells,) whose fondest dream
(Though wild and hopeless,) many a day
Has been the angel which you seem:
And though the world has taught that heart,—
(Oh, may such lessons ne'er to thee
The world—stern monitor!—impart!)
Taught it to seem is not to be;
Where that heart dwells,) whose fondest dream
(Though wild and hopeless,) many a day
Has been the angel which you seem:
And though the world has taught that heart,—
(Oh, may such lessons ne'er to thee
The world—stern monitor!—impart!)
Taught it to seem is not to be;
Yet who would not such doubt discard,
That see thy loveliness and youth
Enshrine the visions of the bard,
And turn his poetry to truth?
Would that I knew thee! and yet still
So strongly do I feel its dangers,
The very wish to know thee will
Perhaps forever keep us strangers!
When once we met, of all who live
I thought that there was none but thee
Who could a charm to bondage give,
Or take the charm from liberty,—
And therefore 'tis on such a theme
My truant feelings dread to dare,
And rather choose of hope to dream
Than rashly to ensure despair;
For I'm not vain enough to think
It were not madness to aspire
To charms like thine,—and so I shrink
From that which I the most desire—
The most desire, though love which seeks
By selfishness its truth to prove,
Is undeserving thee—and speaks
The voice of passions, not of love!
Then never shalt thou know whose hand
'Tis now declares the secret feeling
Which at once dreads disclosure, and
Still finds relief in the revealing!
And while, at times, I hope once more
That we may meet as once we met,—
Grow more acquainted than before,
With chances more propitious, yet
If ne'er by me to be possess'd,
Elsewhere thy love turns,—let it go—
Enough for me to know thee blest,
And feel thee worthy to be so.
That see thy loveliness and youth
Enshrine the visions of the bard,
And turn his poetry to truth?
Would that I knew thee! and yet still
So strongly do I feel its dangers,
The very wish to know thee will
Perhaps forever keep us strangers!
When once we met, of all who live
I thought that there was none but thee
Who could a charm to bondage give,
Or take the charm from liberty,—
And therefore 'tis on such a theme
My truant feelings dread to dare,
And rather choose of hope to dream
Than rashly to ensure despair;
For I'm not vain enough to think
It were not madness to aspire
To charms like thine,—and so I shrink
From that which I the most desire—
The most desire, though love which seeks
By selfishness its truth to prove,
Is undeserving thee—and speaks
The voice of passions, not of love!
Then never shalt thou know whose hand
'Tis now declares the secret feeling
Which at once dreads disclosure, and
Still finds relief in the revealing!
323
That we may meet as once we met,—
Grow more acquainted than before,
With chances more propitious, yet
If ne'er by me to be possess'd,
Elsewhere thy love turns,—let it go—
Enough for me to know thee blest,
And feel thee worthy to be so.
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