woman's love.
When the heart beats with joy to see
Another's greater ecstasy—
Or give the heart a fond relief,
By sharing half another's grief,—
All would be bright, and pure, and good,
With not one soul in solitude:
No bosom feeding its despair,
By brooding over bygone care,
Till heart in selfish thought is cast,
A broken reed, upon the past.
But, oh! not thus should woman be,
Not in her darkest misery;
For ever and anon will gleam,
Like the pure sunbeam o'er the stream,
A thought, a sigh, for others given,
The last faint gleam of her soul's heaven.
Another's greater ecstasy—
Or give the heart a fond relief,
By sharing half another's grief,—
All would be bright, and pure, and good,
With not one soul in solitude:
No bosom feeding its despair,
By brooding over bygone care,
Till heart in selfish thought is cast,
A broken reed, upon the past.
But, oh! not thus should woman be,
Not in her darkest misery;
For ever and anon will gleam,
Like the pure sunbeam o'er the stream,
A thought, a sigh, for others given,
The last faint gleam of her soul's heaven.
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