Classic Poem

Do not ask these lips to utter
What my heart can ne'er approve;
I would break the spell that thralls thee,
With a sister's fondest love.

In thy breast high hopes are swelling,
Visions bright of future years;
But to me how dark the picture!
Full of anxious thoughts and fears.

Thou wilt say my fears are groundless,
And perhaps it may be so; —
Mine may be a selfish feeling,
But I cannot bid thee go.

Thou whose kind reproof has saved me
Many an hour of deep regret —
Thou whose voice hath soothed and cheered me —
No! I cannot lose thee yet!

But I fear that I may wrong thee,
While I bid thee linger here;
Go! and, if I must resign thee,
God protect thee, brother dear!

I will hush each sad emotion,
Though thy absence give me pain;
'Tis enough — be thine the treasure
Thou wilt lose so much to gain.