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THOU LOVEST ME NO MORE.
Each dear and starwinged hope that I have loved
Through long, long years to cherish.

                   Never more,—
Oh never more, thou false one, may I bear
In vernal bower or in the gilded hall,
A flee, and light, and happy heart. Yet I
Shall mingle still amid the wild and gay,
My laugh will echo loudest in the din
Of mirth and joyousness, and none may know
The soul's deep bitterness, the quivering hopes
Crushed on the spirit's hearth. My smiles will be
As bright as they have been, and none may see,
That, cold and vacant like the moon's pale beams
Upon a ruined temple, they but light
The gloom and shadow that keep watch below.
Mine still will be the gay and merry jest,
The keen reply, the free and buoyant tread,
And none may ever rend the veil, and see
What darkly lies beneath.