 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
I shall never See it More.
1821
I shall never see it more! save in visions during sleep,
When—but half-deceived—I gaze on it, and as I gaze I weep;
But 'tis blossomed bright in Memory yet, and shades the verdant steep,
The sweetest hawthorn tree on the banks of the Till!
When—but half-deceived—I gaze on it, and as I gaze I weep;
But 'tis blossomed bright in Memory yet, and shades the verdant steep,
The sweetest hawthorn tree on the banks of the Till!
'Twas a lovely eve in Spring, and the crimson of the west
Lay like a dream of heaven on the river's gentle breast,
When we met beside the hawthorn tree, in milk-white blossoms dressed,
The loving and the loved, on the banks of the Till!
Lay like a dream of heaven on the river's gentle breast,
When we met beside the hawthorn tree, in milk-white blossoms dressed,
The loving and the loved, on the banks of the Till!
24
I have wandered—wandered long in the heartless ways of men,
And have often felt the thrill of love—but never more as then,
When we lay in young love's happy trance amid the silent glen—
Beside the hawthorn tree on the banks of the Till!
And have often felt the thrill of love—but never more as then,
When we lay in young love's happy trance amid the silent glen—
Beside the hawthorn tree on the banks of the Till!
My Mary was as pure as the bloom upon the tree!
She died—and left my heart exposed to vice and misery;
She drank of life's first rapture-cup, and what is left to me,
But a worthless draught, afar from the banks of the Till!
She died—and left my heart exposed to vice and misery;
She drank of life's first rapture-cup, and what is left to me,
But a worthless draught, afar from the banks of the Till!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |