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The Lovers
One idle hour she sought to see
Whose image 'twas he cherished so,
(All fondly certain whose 'twould be)
And found a—girl she did not know.
A trusting maiden's modest face,
All innocence and purity.
"What nun is this that fills my place?
Alas, he loves me not!" sighed she.
"Nay, daughter, let no foolish fears
Your trust in his devotion mar,"
Her mother said. "Come, dry your tears ;
That is the girl he thinks you are."
All fondly curious with love—
(Half guessing what he would lay bare)
He rifled her heart's treasure-trove,
And found—a stranger's image there.
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