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224 EMMA C. EMBURY.

"Too well I knew thou lovedst me not, but ah! I fondly thought
That years of such deep love as mine some change ere this had wrought;
I dreamed the hour might yet arrive, when, sick of passion's strife,
Thy heart would turn with quiet joy to thy neglected wife.

"Vain, foolish hope! how could I look upon thy glorious form,
And think that e'er the time might come when thou wouldst cease to charm?
For ne'er till then wilt thou be freed from beauty's magic art,
Or cease to prize a sunny smile beyond a faithful heart.

"In vain from memory's darkened scroll would other thoughts erase
The loathing that was in thine eye, whene'er it met my face:
Oh! I would give the fairest realm, beneath the all-seeing sun,
To win but such a form as thou mightst love to look upon.

"Woe, woe for the woman's weary lot, if beauty be not hers;
Vainly within her gentle breast affection  wildly stirs;
And bitterly will she deplore, amid her sick heart's dearth,
The hour that fixed her fearful doom — a helot from her birth.

"I would thou hadst been cold and stern, — the pride of my high race
Had taught me then from my young heart thine image to efface;
But surely even love's sweet tones could ne'er have power to bless
My bosom with such joy as did thy pitying tenderness.

EMMA C. EMBURY. 225

"Alas!, it is a heavy task to curb the haughty soul,
And bid th' unbending spirit bow that never knew control;
But harder still when thus the heart against itself must rise,
And struggle on, while every hope that nerved the warfare dies.

"Yet all this have I borne for thee — ay, for thy sake I learned
The gentleness of thought and word which once my proud heart spurned;
The treasures of an untouched heart, the wealth of love's rich mine,
These are the offerings that I laid upon my idol's shrine.

"In vain I breathed my vows to heaven, 'twas mockery of prayer;
In vain I knelt before the cross, I saw but Louis there:
To him I gave the worship that I should have paid my God,
But oh! should his have been the hand to wield the avenging rod?

ABSENCE.

COME to me, Love; forget each sordid duty
That chains thy footsteps to the crowded mart,
Come, look with me upon earth's summer beauty,
And let its influence cheer thy weary heart.
Come to me, Love!

Come to me, Love; the voice of song is swelling
From nature's harp in every varied tone,
And many a voice of bird and bee is telling
A tale of joy amid the forests lone;
Come to me, Love!
P

Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 10:54:16 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 13:58:38