SEPARATION.
Aye, think of me in after years,
Although the dream be past,
Love’s charmed dream of hopes and fears,
It is not made to last.
It cannot last—hearts will grow cold,
And weary, although blest;—
Life’s book has but one leaf of gold—
’Tis but a single scene.
That scene,—oh life may never more
Seen lovely as it seemed,
When wanderers on a fairy shore,
Our way we only dreamed.
But this is past—why should I say
What is in mine own heart?
I know each has a separate way—
I know that we must part.
I know your heart,—I know my own—
Wide difference is there—
And these, so opposite in tone,
A various fate must share.
Deem not I would thy faith recall—
Look not for tears from me—
Equals, pride will for me do all,
Indifference does for thee.
Oh strange that two once so beloved,
Each all the world to each,
Should meet in other days unmoved;—
What lesson does it teach?
One that, at least, I long have known—
To trust to nothing here;
That the heart should be cast in stone,
To suit so cold a sphere.
