TO A COQUETTE.
"Oh, why did you weave this wild spell round my heart!
Why give me those hopes that so soon must depart?
Did you think, that like others, my spirit could bend,
And be in a moment a lover or friend?"
Why give me those hopes that so soon must depart?
Did you think, that like others, my spirit could bend,
And be in a moment a lover or friend?"
I with the rest have bowed to thee,
With all a lover's pride,
Have gazed upon that lovely brow,
And worshiped by thy side;
With all a lover's pride,
Have gazed upon that lovely brow,
And worshiped by thy side;
I never told thee half my love,
My tongue could not reveal
The deep, wild passion of my heart,—
Such as thou ne'er couldst feel.
My tongue could not reveal
The deep, wild passion of my heart,—
Such as thou ne'er couldst feel.
Cold-hearted girl! thou 'It never know
How deep this heart was wrung,—
Or how thy dark ingratitude
My trusting spirit stung.
How deep this heart was wrung,—
Or how thy dark ingratitude
My trusting spirit stung.