THE REPLY.
Oh! breathe not words of love to me,
Nor tell my heart of thine;
And may kind Heaven give to thee
The peace unknown to mine:
For my sad heart a tale could tell
Of love—my spirit's master-spell.
Nor tell my heart of thine;
And may kind Heaven give to thee
The peace unknown to mine:
For my sad heart a tale could tell
Of love—my spirit's master-spell.
But peace hath fled my bosom now—
Ah! never to return;
Fond victim of a broken vow,
And memories that burn.
I loved with heart and soul, and deemed
My young heart's idol all he seemed.
Ah! never to return;
Fond victim of a broken vow,
And memories that burn.
I loved with heart and soul, and deemed
My young heart's idol all he seemed.
Nor dreamt that fond, endearing tone,
In words of sweetness dressed—
Vowing that I was loved alone,
The first in heart confessed—
In words of sweetness dressed—
Vowing that I was loved alone,
The first in heart confessed—
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