Oh! what a change since last we met, when thou wert all my own,
And love dictated every word, and sweetened every tone.
Cold and repelling was the gaze that rested on the one
Whose heart’s devotion, true as steel, thy treachery had won.
Who could have thought that vows exchanged before the God of heaven,
And pledged so solemnly, could be so soon, so rudely riven?
But, false one, I fling back to thee thy hollow, withering gaze,
And spurn thee in the bitterest tones my scorn-strung voice can raise.
(Hannah S Battersby)
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