A DISENCHANTMENT.
Oh, thou wast but a breathing May
Embodied by delicious dreams,
And drifted o'er my wandering way
On fancy's swift and shining streams.
Thine eyes were only violets,
Thy lips but buds of crimson bloom,
Thy hair, coiled sunshine—vain regrets!
Thy soul, a brief perfume.
Embodied by delicious dreams,
And drifted o'er my wandering way
On fancy's swift and shining streams.
Thine eyes were only violets,
Thy lips but buds of crimson bloom,
Thy hair, coiled sunshine—vain regrets!
Thy soul, a brief perfume.
So, when the time of mists and chills
Fell where the sweet wild roses grew,
And took them from the shadowy hills,
It took my lovely vision too;
And when I came again to find
The charm which used to fill the air,
A sorrow struck me mute and blind—
Thou wast not anywhere!
Fell where the sweet wild roses grew,
And took them from the shadowy hills,
It took my lovely vision too;
And when I came again to find
The charm which used to fill the air,
A sorrow struck me mute and blind—
Thou wast not anywhere!
