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The future was a blank, the past despair!
She had long loved but too devotedly;—
The dream was over, and she shrank away
From the now joyless world: he who had been
To her the light, the breath of life, was gone.
Memory to her was as a faded flower,
Whose lingering fragrance just recalls how sweet,
How beautiful it has been, but to keep
Regret alive, and make its wither'd state—
More wither'd from its former loveliness.
IV.
They laid aside her gems and costly vest,
And robed her in the simple garb of black.
And those fair tresses, braided o'er her brow
Like golden clusters round pure ivory,
Bright as the locks the Egyptian queen once gave—
A tender offering, worthy her and love—
