Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/185

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 * That I shuddered but to hear?

They told me of such hateful things
 * In all thy bygone life:—

They said no woman pure and good
 * Should ever be thy wife!

And o'er my girlish innocence
 * Distrustful shadows flung,

And o'er love's, sunny radiance
 * A cloud of sorrow hung!

Oh! bitter, bitter knowledge,
 * At my bosom entered in!

I can not love thee, Clarence Vane,
 * Thy soul is stained with sin!

Oh! winning was your eloquence,
 * And earnest was your tone,

When telling of the rosy path
 * Your steps of life had known!

And when I listened to your words
 * My bosom swelled with pride,

That I should be your chosen one—
 * Your spirit-love! your bride!

I worshiped the great oral power
 * That chained the silent throng;

I loved the golden lyre that thrilled
 * With wild and passionate song.

And when, with half-averted eyes,
 * You spoke of ladies fair:—

Of sweet, bewildering loveliness,
 * And grace and beauty rare:—

And how you turned away from all
 * With careless heart and cold:—

In simple, girlish innocence,
 * I trusted all you told.

Oh! hapless fate! oh! cruel fate!
 * That perfect love like mine

Should have been given trustingly
 * At an unhallowed shrine!

False! you will mock me with that word,