Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/165

 ,MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. A tender sadness melts my soul, And Memory, with her train attending, Seems all her pages to unroll, While Hope her airy dreams is blending. My tears are sweet; yet see not thou, Lest thou mistake thei drops for woe. I think o� all I am, the while, Of guilt's dark hours, and life all blasted, And thou the only thing to smile Upon. the heart, so wildly wuted: Oh, what can tell the rush of thought, With joy, grieF, rapture, anguish, fraught ! But, with a thrill of keener pain, A shuddering dread has now o'ercome me, That dries those kindly tears again,-- Oh, should the future tear thee from me *. Ah me, ah me ! ! hold thee now-- Shall ! ask ever--where art thou ? 145 I cannot call thee back again, Nor o'er again these joys 'be living, And thousand worlds were pledg'd in vain, To give what now this hour is giving; But I shall writhe in fruitless woe, With pangs, which--no, I do not knw. L ......... Google

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