Lyrics of the heart With other poems. By Alaric A. Watts. With forty-one engravings on steel |
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WE MET WHEN HOPE AND LIFE WERE NEW. |
 | Lyrics of the heart |  |
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WE MET WHEN HOPE AND LIFE WERE NEW.
We met when hope and life were new,
When all we looked on smiled;—
And Fancy's wand around us threw
Enchantments, sweet as wild:
Ours were the light and bounding hearts
The world had yet to wring;—
The bloom, that when it once departs,
Can know no second spring.
When all we looked on smiled;—
And Fancy's wand around us threw
Enchantments, sweet as wild:
Ours were the light and bounding hearts
The world had yet to wring;—
The bloom, that when it once departs,
Can know no second spring.
What though our love was never told,—
Or breathed in sighs alone;
By signs that would not be controlled,
Its growing strength was shewn:—
The touch, that thrilled us with delight;
The glance, by art untamed;
In one short moon, as brief as bright,
That tender truth proclaimed.
Or breathed in sighs alone;
By signs that would not be controlled,
Its growing strength was shewn:—
The touch, that thrilled us with delight;
The glance, by art untamed;
In one short moon, as brief as bright,
That tender truth proclaimed.
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We parted, chilling looks among;
My inmost soul was bowed;
And blessings died upon my tongue,
I dared not breathe aloud:—
A pensive smile, serene and bland,
One thrilling glance—how vain!
A pressure of thy yielding hand;—
We never met again!
My inmost soul was bowed;
And blessings died upon my tongue,
I dared not breathe aloud:—
A pensive smile, serene and bland,
One thrilling glance—how vain!
A pressure of thy yielding hand;—
We never met again!
Yet still a spell was in thy name,
Of magic power to me;
That bad me strive for wealth and fame,
To make me worthy thee:
And long through many an after-year,
When boyhood's dream had flown,
With nothing left to hope or fear,
I loved, in silence, on!
Of magic power to me;
That bad me strive for wealth and fame,
To make me worthy thee:
And long through many an after-year,
When boyhood's dream had flown,
With nothing left to hope or fear,
I loved, in silence, on!
More sacred ties, at length, are ours,
As dear as those of yore;
And later joys, like autumn-flowers,
Have bloomed for us once more!
But never canst thou be again,
What once thou wert to me;—
I glory in another's chain,—
And thou'rt no longer free.
As dear as those of yore;
And later joys, like autumn-flowers,
Have bloomed for us once more!
But never canst thou be again,
What once thou wert to me;—
I glory in another's chain,—
And thou'rt no longer free.
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Thy stream of life glides calmly on,—
A prosperous lot is thine;
The brighter that it did not join
The turbid waves of mine;
Yet oh! might fondest love relume
Joy's sunshine on my brow,
Thine scarce can be a happier doom
Than I may boast of now!
A prosperous lot is thine;
The brighter that it did not join
The turbid waves of mine;
Yet oh! might fondest love relume
Joy's sunshine on my brow,
Thine scarce can be a happier doom
Than I may boast of now!
| Lyrics of the heart | |