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woman's lot.
You would not be remembered, love,
When in the cold tomb laid,
O, thinkest thou thy memory
Could ever cast a shade?
No! no! dear heart, to think of thee,
And love so freely given,
Will be the beacon light to guide
My faltering steps to heaven.
When in the cold tomb laid,
O, thinkest thou thy memory
Could ever cast a shade?
No! no! dear heart, to think of thee,
And love so freely given,
Will be the beacon light to guide
My faltering steps to heaven.
Woman's Lot.
Heart of mine, O cease thy beating!
Silence, lips! his name repeating;
Throbbing pulse, be still! be still!
Rest, O brain! from weary thought,
Lest thou should'st be over-wrought,
Rest, or thought will kill.
O the bitterness, the pain,
Of love when it is given in vain:
How sad is woman's lot.
Her secret never may be told,
'Twould be unmaidenly and bold,
And man—he guesseth not.
And so Love lives and dies, concealed,
Because a woman's lips are sealed.
Silence, lips! his name repeating;
Throbbing pulse, be still! be still!
Rest, O brain! from weary thought,
Lest thou should'st be over-wrought,
Rest, or thought will kill.
O the bitterness, the pain,
Of love when it is given in vain:
How sad is woman's lot.
Her secret never may be told,
'Twould be unmaidenly and bold,
And man—he guesseth not.
And so Love lives and dies, concealed,
Because a woman's lips are sealed.
