Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1839.pdf/40

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! do not take the picture, I pray thee, Mother dear; It has been my only solace Of many a lingering year. I may be wrong, my Mother, I know that I am wrong; But I have loved that image So dearly and so long! Children we were together— And with it will depart All that remains of childhood Around my wasted heart.

Forgive me, oh! my Mother! All hope I can resign; But leave a little memory Of what no more is mine. We shall meet no more, my Mother, As we were wont to meet, Overhead the long green branches, The wild flowers at our feet. I know that he is altered, That I am altered too, That we could not if we would, Mother, Our early love renew.

We meet—it is as strangers— We part without a word; But in my heart there vibrates An unforgotten chord. It is not love but sorrow, Wo for the youthful heart, That sees its fairest fancies, Its dearest dreams depart. It will but guard the future With many a mournful sign: Then give me back the picture— O, give it, Mother mine.