THE LOVE OF OTHER DAYS. 91 



The smile that glow'd upon thy cheek, 



And lent thine eye a softer grace, 

 When in the crowd I turned to thee, 

 Proud of thy certain sympathy : 



Ere my poor ear, that hath been used 



To live upon thy angel voice ; 

 Its daily sustenance refused. 



And forced to wander for a choice. 

 Can listen to some other tone, 

 And deem it welcome as thine own : 



Ere the true heart thou could*st deceive, 

 Can hope, and dream, and trust once more, 



And from another's lips believe 

 All that THY lips so falsely swore, 



And hear those vows of other years 



Without a burst of bitter tears : — 



Ere I have half my mind explained 

 To one who shares my thoughts too late ; 



With weary tongue, and spirit pain'd, 

 And heart that still feels desolate — 



Have travell'd through those by-gone days, 



Which made life barren to my gaze : 



What years must pass I in this world's strife, 



How small will be my portion then : 

 The fainting energies of life 



Will scarcely serve to love again. 

 Love ! to the pale, uncertain flame, 

 The fervent God denies his name. 



No ! let no wrong'd heart look to mine : 



Such fate the wanderer hath in store, 

 Who worships at a ruin'd shrine, 



Where altar -fires can burn no more ; 

 Vain is the incense — vain the prayer — 

 No deity is lingering there I 



Oh ! never more shall trust return. 



Trust, by which love alone can live : 

 Even while I woo, my heart shall yearn 



For answers thou wert wont to give. 

 And my faint sighs shall echoes be 

 Of those I breathed long since to thee ! 



