Mary
ES, we were happy once, and care My jocund heart could ne'er surprise;
My treasures were, her golden hair,
Her ruby lips, her brilliant eyes.
My treasures were--alas! depart Ye visions of what used to be!
Cursed be the heart--the cruel heart-- That stole my Mary's love from me.
Dark are my joyless days--and thou-- Dost thou too dream, and dreaming weep?
Or, careless of thy broken vow,
Unholy revels dost thou keep?
No,
Mary, no,--we loved too well,
Such deep oblivion cannot be;
Cursed be the lips, where guile could dwell,
To lure thy love away from me!
It cannot be!--ah! haply, while With wild reproach I greet thy name,
Thy ruby lip hath ceased to smile-- Thy happy head is bowed with shame!
Haply, with haggard want opprest,
Thou weepest where no eye may see;
Cursed be the spoiler's cruel breast-- But, oh! my Mary--heaven shield thee!
Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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I IT was a fair and gentle child Stood leaning by his mother's knee; His noble brow was smooth and mild-- His eyes shone bright with frolic glee-- And he was stately, though so young; As from a noble lineage sprung
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ES, I know that you once were my lover, But that sort of thing has an end, And though love and its transports are over,
My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!
MY heart is like a withered nut, Rattling within its hollow shell; You cannot ope my breast, and put Any thing fresh with it to dwell The hopes and dreams that filled it when Life's spring of glory met my view,
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LY I heard a voice—surely my name Was breathed in tones familiar to my heart I listened—and the low wind stealing came, In darkness and in silence to depart Surely I saw a form, a proud bright form,