 | Love's token-flowers |  |
60
LEMON-SCENTED VERBENA.—Aloysia Citriodora.
Sensibility.
I am not cold: though 'neath the guise
Of playful mirth I fain would hide
The feelings that too wildly rise,
Rebellious to my woman's pride.
Of playful mirth I fain would hide
The feelings that too wildly rise,
Rebellious to my woman's pride.
I am not cold: when thou art nigh,
The gentle thoughts my heart that thrill
Teach me to shrink before the eye
That wins to its resistless will
The gentle thoughts my heart that thrill
Teach me to shrink before the eye
That wins to its resistless will
I am not cold: and could I fling
Upon thy path a single flower,
How gladly would each impulse spring
To meet thee in affection's hour.
Upon thy path a single flower,
How gladly would each impulse spring
To meet thee in affection's hour.
I am not cold: but I have learned
My own impatient heart to fear—
To crush those sympathies that burned
In vain through many a bygone year.
My own impatient heart to fear—
61
In vain through many a bygone year.
I am not cold: love's living flame
Still glimmers on o'er hopes entombed,
And I have found, with grief and shame,
That ashes may be re-illumed.
Still glimmers on o'er hopes entombed,
And I have found, with grief and shame,
That ashes may be re-illumed.
| Love's token-flowers | |