IN vain to me the howling deep
Stern Winter’s awful reign discloses:
In vain shall Summer zephyrs sleep
On fragrant beds of budding roses:
To me alike each scene appears,
Since thou hast broke my heart, or nearly;
While Mem’ry writes, in frequent tears,
That I have lov’d thee VERY DEARLY !
How many Summers pass’d away !
How many Winters, sad and dreary !
And still I taught thee to be gay,
Whene’er thy soul of life was weary:
When ling’ring sickness wrung thy breast,
And bow’d thee to the earth severely,
I strove to lull thy mind to rest;
For then I lov’d thee,–Oh, HOW DEARLY !
And though the flush of joy no more
Shall, o’er my cheek its lustre throwing,
Bid giddy fools that cheek adore,
And talk of passions ever glowing,–
Still to thy mind should time impart
A charm to bid it feel sincerely;
Nor idly wound a breaking heart
That lov’d thee LONG , and LOV’D THEE DEARLY !
Could gold thy truant fancy bind,–
A faithful heart would still content me;
For, oh ! to serve that heart unkind,
I gave THEE all that Fortune lent me !
In youth, when suitors round me press’d,
Who vow’d to love, and “love sincerely,”
When wealth could never charm my breast,–
Tho’ thou wert poor, I LOV’D THEE DEARLY !
Seek not the fragile dreams of love:
Such fleeting phantoms will deceive thee;
They will but transient idols prove,–
In wealth beguile, in sorrow leave thee.
Ah ! dost thou hope the sordid mind ,
When thou art poor, will feel sincerely ?
Wilt thou in such the friendship find,
Which warm’d the heart that LOV’D THEE DEARLY ?
Though fickle passions cease to burn
For Her, so long thy bosom’s treasure,
Ah ! think that reason may return,
When far from thee my paths I measure:
Say, who will then thy conscience heal ?
Or who will bid thy heart beat cheerly ?
Or from that heart the mem’ry steal
Of HER who LOV’D THEE TRULY –DEARLY ?
When war shall rouze the brooding storm,
And horrors haunt thy thorny pillow;
When Fancy shall present my form
Borne on the wild and restless billow;
Oh ! where wilt thou an helpmate find
Whose heart, like mine, shall throb sincerely ?
Or who thy heart in spells shall bind,
When HER’S is broke that LOV’D THEE DEARLY ?
When thou contending throngs shall court,
Where party zeal has often crown’d thee;
Perchance, of Fortune’s frowns the sport,
Caprice or cold neglect may wound thee !
Then wilt thou find no gen’rous heart
To bid thee bear misfortune cheerly;
No friend, in grief, to share a part
Like HER who lov’d thee LONG AND DEARLY !
Could I to distant regions stray,
From THEE my thoughts would never wander;
For, at the purpling close of day,
By some lone vagrant rill’s meander,–
Each wand’ring bee, each chilling wind,
Would tell the heart that’s broken nearly,–
In them, where’er they rove, to find
The faults of him I lov’d SO DEARLY !—-
I will not court thy fickle love;
Soon shall our fates and fortunes sever:
Far from thy sight will I remove,
And smiling sigh “adieu for ever !”
Give to the sordid friends thy days;
Still trust that they will act sincerely,–
And when the specious mask decays,
Lament the heart that LOV’D THEE DEARLY !
For Time will swiftly journey on,
And Age with sickness haste to meet thee,
Friends prov’d deceitful will be gone,
When they no more with smiles can cheat thee:
Then wilt thou seek in vain to find
A faithful heart that beats sincerely,–
A passion, cent’ring in THE MIND ,
Which, scorning interest, LOV’D THEE DEARLY !
When in the grave this heart shall sleep,
No soothing dream will bless thy slumber;
For thou wilt often wake to weep,
And in despair my sorrows number !
My shade will haunt thine aching eyes,
My voice in whispers tell thee clearly
How COLD AT LAST THAT BOSOM LIES
Which lov’d THEE LONG , and LOV’D THEE DEARLY .
(Mary Elizabeth Robinson)
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