Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/186

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And light, and treasure, clings to one from whom Our wayward doom divides us. Better far To weep o'er treachery or broken vows,— For time may teach their worthlessness:--or pine With unrequited love;—there is a pride In the fond sacrifice—the cheek may lose Its summer crimson; but at least the rose Has withered secretly—at least, the heart That has been victim to its tenderness, Has sighed unechoed by some one as true, As wretched as itself. But to be loved With feelings deep, eternal as our own, And yet to know that we must quell those feelings With phantom shapes of prudence, worldly care— For two who live but in each other's life, Whose only star in this dark world is love!