 | Love's token-flowers |  |
HOLLY.—Ilex Aquilegia.
“Am I forgotten?”
I am not changed, I am not cold,
Time has not made me-scorn or doubt thee;
But, since the blissful days of old,
My heart has learned to do without thee.
Time has not made me-scorn or doubt thee;
But, since the blissful days of old,
My heart has learned to do without thee.
The charm that in thy presence dwelt,
The spells thy voice could weave around me,
Are over now, since I have felt
How fragile were the ties that bound thee.
The spells thy voice could weave around me,
Are over now, since I have felt
How fragile were the ties that bound thee.
I did not woo thee, mine was not
A freak of fancy or of fashion,
A yearning waked to be forgot,
A dream half sentiment, half passion.
A freak of fancy or of fashion,
A yearning waked to be forgot,
A dream half sentiment, half passion.
Something of love, but passion-free,
Something of friendship but far fonder,
Devotion that still turned to thee,
However far thy thoughts might wander;
Something of friendship but far fonder,
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However far thy thoughts might wander;
Such were the gifts I would have laid
With deep humility before thee;
But all unmarked such offerings fade,
While others, less sincere, adore thee.
With deep humility before thee;
But all unmarked such offerings fade,
While others, less sincere, adore thee.
Now all is changed—I know not why—
No word of coldness has been spoken;
And yet I feel the secret tie
That bound our souls for ever broken.
No word of coldness has been spoken;
And yet I feel the secret tie
That bound our souls for ever broken.
Oh! I could weep—although there still
Are many pleasures left to cheer me;
Though hope can yet my bosom thrill,
And friends oft tried and true are near me;—
Are many pleasures left to cheer me;
Though hope can yet my bosom thrill,
And friends oft tried and true are near me;—
Though there are joys thou couldst not blight—
Which will not leave me lonely-hearted—
Yet ah! how much of pleasant light
Has, with thee, from my life departed!
Which will not leave me lonely-hearted—
Yet ah! how much of pleasant light
Has, with thee, from my life departed!
Farewell—yet no!—I will not say
That word fraught with unmingled sadness;
We yet shall meet amid the gay,
In scenes of revelry and gladness.
That word fraught with unmingled sadness;
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In scenes of revelry and gladness.
Yet never more the whispered word,
Our mystic sympathy confessing,
Shall thrill the heart too wildly stirred
To utter then its fervent blessing.
Our mystic sympathy confessing,
Shall thrill the heart too wildly stirred
To utter then its fervent blessing.
Yes—we are parted: we may meet
Amid the world's enforced communion;
But gone are all the tokens sweet,
That sealed our bond of spirit union.
Amid the world's enforced communion;
But gone are all the tokens sweet,
That sealed our bond of spirit union.
Yet better thus: my heart has turned
More fondly to the true and real,
Since I, in bitterness, have learned
How false may be the soul's Ideal.
More fondly to the true and real,
Since I, in bitterness, have learned
How false may be the soul's Ideal.
| Love's token-flowers | |