 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
260
LIFE'S FIRST GRIEF.
Oh! happy times!—Oh! lovely years!
When even the gush of rainbow tears
Was void of wounding pain—
When kindly words and gentle eyes
Could rouse Affection's sympathies,
And bind Love's tender chain!
When even the gush of rainbow tears
Was void of wounding pain—
When kindly words and gentle eyes
Could rouse Affection's sympathies,
And bind Love's tender chain!
Too soon those seasons bright did pass,
Stricken in golden youth, alas!—
My heart was in its truth!—
And Love grew cold—and Life grew old,
And heavily its doomed hours rolled—
Stricken in golden youth!
Stricken in golden youth, alas!—
My heart was in its truth!—
And Love grew cold—and Life grew old,
And heavily its doomed hours rolled—
Stricken in golden youth!
Oh! Love is full of wounding woe
In this dark changeful world below—
I joy his reign is o'er!
Could I endure his sway again,
This Heart—long, long resigned to pain—
Would tortured be once more!
In this dark changeful world below—
261
Could I endure his sway again,
This Heart—long, long resigned to pain—
Would tortured be once more!
Poor Heart! so agonized before,
That would'st be sacrificed once more—
Bound to a Lot accursed—
Then hopeless—silenced—loveless—lone—
Remain—'twas well to be undone
By Life's first Grief and worst!
That would'st be sacrificed once more—
Bound to a Lot accursed—
Then hopeless—silenced—loveless—lone—
Remain—'twas well to be undone
By Life's first Grief and worst!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |