Chansonette
It haunts me yet! that early dream
Of first fond Love;
Like the ice that floats in a summer stream
From frozen fount above,
Through my river of life 'twill drifting gleam,
Wherever its waves may flow;
Flashing athwart each sunny hour
With a strangely bright but chilling power,
Ever and ever to mock their tide
With its illusive glow;
A fragment of hopes that were petrified
Long—long ago!
Of first fond Love;
Like the ice that floats in a summer stream
From frozen fount above,
Through my river of life 'twill drifting gleam,
Wherever its waves may flow;
Flashing athwart each sunny hour
With a strangely bright but chilling power,
Ever and ever to mock their tide
With its illusive glow;
A fragment of hopes that were petrified
Long—long ago!
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