We met in cheerless hours, my dear

We met in cheerless hours, my dear,
When life had waned with me,
And all that once had charmed me here
Was gone, but only thee, my dear,—
Was gone, but only thee.

I loved thee with the glow of youth,
But with a purer flame;
I vowed, before the shrine of truth,
To be for aye the same, my dear,
To be for aye the same.

For youthful passion soon decays,
It flashes and it dies;
But my fond feeling shone with rays
That kindle in the skies, my dear,
That kindle in the skies.

Thou wert too young to read my heart,
Or love the spirit's light;
Thou saidst, “Gay boyhood can impart
A pleasure doubly bright, my dear,
A pleasure doubly bright.”

It was the fondness of the eye,
That led thy heart away;
And not the hues that deeper lie
Than boyhood bright and gay, my dear,
Than boyhood bright and gay.

So farewell, love, for dear to me
Thy heart shall be for ever;
And though I cannot live with thee,
O, I 'll forget thee never, dear,
O, I'll forget thee never.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.