I flattered myself that my love was dead, And stifled the pain m ciyv tortured breast, That my weary heart had at last found rest, And her fair false face from my dreams had fled. Her long-treasured notes I could calmly read, With never a sigh or a vain regret ; And smiled to recall that my eyes were wet When I read them first as a sacred screed. I could rest m peace 'neath tha trysting tree, Where undying love was her own sweet theme ; It seemed to me now a midsummer' dream, j So .sedate my mind and so " fancy free." She passed me to-night on the crowded beach, A reproachful look on her fair, sweet face ; And I turned and gazed, then followed apace— The surging throng urged her beyond my ' reach. Then over my heart m a torrent swept Poignant grief, remorse, and a nameless dread. And what of the love I had known was dead ? Oh ! now I well knew it had only slept.
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Awakened., Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2519, 16 September 1890
Awakened. Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2519, 16 September 1890
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