STANZAS TO . . . . . . . .
Ah! proud and cold 's thy every look,
And haughty is thy smile;
Yet honeyed words are on thy tongue,
Placed there but to beguile
And haughty is thy smile;
Yet honeyed words are on thy tongue,
Placed there but to beguile
My woman's weakness. But 'tis vain,
This heart can never bend,
Though once it had a foolish dream,
With thine, proud one, to blend.
This heart can never bend,
Though once it had a foolish dream,
With thine, proud one, to blend.
But it has fled from out my heart,
Ah! fled into the past!
And visions, false as they were vain,
No more my soul o'ercast.
Ah! fled into the past!
And visions, false as they were vain,
No more my soul o'ercast.
