OUTGROWN
Nay, you wrong her, my friend, she's not fickle; her love she has simply outgrown;
One can read the whole matter, translating her heart by the light of one's own.
One can read the whole matter, translating her heart by the light of one's own.
I Can you bear me to talk with you frankly? There is much that my heart would say,
And you know we were children together, have quarreled and "made up" in play.
And you know we were children together, have quarreled and "made up" in play.
And so, for the sake of old friendship, I venture to tell you the truth,
As plainly, perhaps, and as bluntly, as I might in our earlier youth.
As plainly, perhaps, and as bluntly, as I might in our earlier youth.
Five summers ago, when you wooed her, you stood on the self-same plane,
Face to face, heart to heart, never dreaming your souls could be parted again.
Face to face, heart to heart, never dreaming your souls could be parted again.
She loved you at that time entirely, in the bloom of her life's early May,
And it is not her fault, I repeat it, that she does not love you to-day.
And it is not her fault, I repeat it, that she does not love you to-day.
Nature never stands still, nor souls either. They ever go up or go down;
And hers has been steadily soaring,—but how has it been with your own?
And hers has been steadily soaring,—but how has it been with your own?
