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poems.
69
And asked you to be the poet's bride,
The happiest one in the land;
You scorned my offer, proud Maud Lee,
You scorned this faithful heart,
And vowed in voice, both soft and low,
That you with me would part.

I left my poet's home, Maud Lee,
And won for myself a name;
I travelled far o'er land and sea,
In search of earthly fame.
You then became a rich man's bride,
And revelled in silver and gold;
I sighed from my heart when I heard thy fate,
For my love was the same as of old.

You sat at a rich and well-decked board;
You led the dance with glee;
You then were called the rich man's bride,
But I read at once thy misery.
And I gaze on thy picture to-night, Maud Lee,
As I sit by my window alone,
And T watch in vain for thy curls of brown,
List in vain for thy merry tone.