To a Lady
Oh! had my Fate been join'd with thine,As once this pledge appear'd a token,These follies had not, then, been mine,For, then, my peace had not been broken.
To thee, these early faults I owe,To thee, the wise and old reproving:They know my sins, but do not know'Twas thine to break the bonds of loving.
For once my soul, like thine, was pure,And all its rising fires could smother;But, now, thy vows no more endure,Bestow'd by thee upon another.
Perhaps, his peace I could destroy,And spoil the blisses that await him;Yet let my Rival smile in joy,For thy dear sake, I cannot hate him.
Ah! since thy angel form is gone,My heart no more can rest with any;But what it sought in thee alone,Attempts, alas! to find in many.
Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!'Twere vain and fruitless to regret thee;Nor Hope, nor Memory yield their aid,But Pride may teach me to forget thee.
Yet all this giddy waste of years,This tiresome round of palling pleasures;These varied loves, these matrons' fears,These thoughtless strains to Passion's measures--
If thou wert mine, had all been hush'd:--This cheek, now pale from early riot,With Passion's hectic ne'er had flush'd,But bloom'd in calm domestic quiet.
Yes, once the rural Scene was sweet,For Nature seem'd to smile before thee;And once my Breast abhorr'd deceit,--For then it beat but to adore thee.
But, now, I seek for other joys--To think, would drive my soul to madness;In thoughtless throngs, and empty noise,I conquer half my Bosom's sadness.
Yet, even in these, a thought will steal,In spite of every vain endeavour;And fiends might pity what I feel--To know that thou art lost for ever.
Sign in to like, rate and collect poems, and keep track of what you've read.