Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1825.pdf/33



Thy heart in its spring had been blighted By the hope in which it delighted; Yet thou had'st pardon'd, and kept Thy love, and had wept For him who had thus love requited.

I thought I would then have given, Hopes of earth, aye, and hopes of heaven, For the precious tears Thou hadst shed thro' years, For him thou hadst loved and forgiven.

I never breathed passion to thee, A boy, I dared not woo thee; Enough that my breast For its secret guest, And its treasured idol knew thee.

Once I felt the caressing Of thy soft lips my forehead pressing; And a fire and pain Past thro' my brain, Though 'twas but as a mother's blessing.

Long year's time has been telling,— Now the dark grave is thy dwelling; And my heart is as still, And almost as chill As the cold sod over thee swelling. .