Well! Thou Art Happy
Well! thou art happy, and I feelThat I should thus be happy too;For still my heart regards thy wealWarmly, as it was wont to do.
Thy husband's blest--and 'twill impartSome pangs to view his happier lot:But let them pass--Oh! how my heartWould hate him if he loved thee not!
When late I saw thy favourite child,I thought my jealous heart would break;But when the unconscious infant smil'd,I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.
I kiss'd it,--and repress'd my sighsIts father in its face to see;But then it had its mother's eyes,And they were all to love and me.
Mary, adieu! I must away:While thou art blest I'll not repine;But near thee I can never stay;My heart would soon again be thine.
I deem'd that Time, I deem'd that Pride,Had quench'd at length my boyish flame;Nor knew, till seated by thy side,My heart in all,--save hope,--the same.
Yet was I calm: I knew the timeMy breast would thrill before thy look;But now to tremble were a crime--We met,--and not a nerve was shook.
I saw thee gaze upon my face,Yet meet with no confusion there:One only feeling couldst thou trace;The sullen calmness of despair.
Away! away! my early dreamRemembrance never must awake:Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream?My foolish heart be still, or break.
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