 | [Poems by Halleck in] Fitz-Greene Halleck : An Early Knickerbocker Wit and Poet |  |
429
To Margaret
You told me, Margaret, that in time
You might, perhaps, be learned to love me;
But 'twas because that I can rhyme
A little—if the spirit move me.
You might, perhaps, be learned to love me;
But 'twas because that I can rhyme
A little—if the spirit move me.
Ah, had the lyre that winning art
I well might call its skill divine
And were I sure 'twould make your heart
Beat in congenial throbs with mine
I well might call its skill divine
And were I sure 'twould make your heart
Beat in congenial throbs with mine
Again I'd seek the Muses' bowers,
Which long I 've passed neglected by,
Again invoke the fairy powers
To aid my harp's wild melody.
Which long I 've passed neglected by,
Again invoke the fairy powers
To aid my harp's wild melody.
But ah! I fear 'twere fruitless toil—
Experience has the lesson taught,
That woman's fond, enrapturing smile
Can never be so cheaply bought.
Experience has the lesson taught,
That woman's fond, enrapturing smile
Can never be so cheaply bought.
And I would spurn, however dear,
The heart that verse had power of stealing,
Its passion could not be sincere—
Love claims a purer test of feeling.
The heart that verse had power of stealing,
Its passion could not be sincere—
Love claims a purer test of feeling.
Yet I had hoped that, ere 'twas known
That I could pen a song or sonnet,
Your bosom's little guest had flown
On Cupid's wing, and I had won it.
That I could pen a song or sonnet,
Your bosom's little guest had flown
On Cupid's wing, and I had won it.
Come, tell me, is it so or not,
Whate'er my fate I beg to know it;
Say—and the Muses all forgot—
You love the Man, and not the Poet.
Whate'er my fate I beg to know it;
Say—and the Muses all forgot—
You love the Man, and not the Poet.
Fitz-Greene Halleck
| [Poems by Halleck in] Fitz-Greene Halleck : An Early Knickerbocker Wit and Poet | |