Poems (E. L. F.)/The reply

by E. L. F.

THE REPLY.

Oh! breathe not words of love to me,
 Nor tell my heart of thine;
And may kind Heaven give to thee
 The peace unknown to mine:
For my sad heart a tale could tell
Of love—my spirit's master-spell.

But peace hath fled my bosom now—
 Ah! never to return;
Fond victim of a broken vow,
 And memories that burn.
I loved with heart and soul, and deemed
My young heart's idol all he seemed.

Nor dreamt that fond, endearing tone,
 In words of sweetness dressed—
Vowing that I was loved alone,
 The first in heart confessed—
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.
All I can give, all I can claim,
Is friendship's dear and lasting name.

Forget what I have ever been,
 In thy love's dreamy hour;
Oh! would that I could have foreseen,
 My all unwitting power:
For, oh! it gives me untold pain,
To know thou lov'st, yet love in vain.

For love can never more be mine,
 My passion's hour is gone;
But had I loved a heart like thine,
 I ne'er had sorrow known:
My heart is all unfit for thee—
Nought but a blighted, withered tree.

Time soon will bring again to thee,
 A balm for present pain;
And thou wilt cease to think of me,
 And learn to love again:
For I would live, and hope to see
Another's heart rejoice in thee.