This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

the reply.

Was false and fleeting as the light,
Whose meteor phantoms greet the sight.

That smile of mirth and joyousness,
That calm and placid brow—
Oh! could I doubt their truthfulness?
The thought is anguish now.
And yet I love—yet live to tell
Of this fond passion's fearful spell.

A spell it was, and is to me—
My life's first joy—and blight;
E'en thou couldst never be to me
My young hope's visioned light:
But in this bosom will remain,
The poisoned barb that dealt its pain.

And thou wilt cease to wonder now,
Why I am lone and sad;
For thou wouldst think it stranger how
I ever could be glad.

71