72
THE DESERTED.
A mockery, the spectre of a flower.
I quell my struggling sighs, and wear a smile;
But ah! that smile, more eloquent than sighs,
Tells of a broken heart.
I quell my struggling sighs, and wear a smile;
But ah! that smile, more eloquent than sighs,
Tells of a broken heart.
'Tis said that thou
Dost ever shine the gayest amid the gay,
That loudest rings thy laugh in festive halls,
That in the dance, with lips all wreathed in smiles,
Thou whisperest love's delicious flatteries;
And if my name is spoken, a light sneer
Is all thy comment. Yet, proud man, I know
Beneath thy hollow mask of recklessness,
Thy conscious heart still beats as true to me
As in the happy eves long past. Ah! once,
In night's still hour, when I went forth to weep
Beneath our favorite tree, whose giant arms
Seemed stretched out to protect the lonely girl,
I marked a figure stealing thence away,
And my poor heart beat quick; for oh! I saw,
Despite the closely muffled cloak, 'twas thou.
Dost ever shine the gayest amid the gay,
That loudest rings thy laugh in festive halls,
That in the dance, with lips all wreathed in smiles,
Thou whisperest love's delicious flatteries;
And if my name is spoken, a light sneer
Is all thy comment. Yet, proud man, I know
Beneath thy hollow mask of recklessness,
Thy conscious heart still beats as true to me
As in the happy eves long past. Ah! once,
In night's still hour, when I went forth to weep
Beneath our favorite tree, whose giant arms
Seemed stretched out to protect the lonely girl,
I marked a figure stealing thence away,
And my poor heart beat quick; for oh! I saw,
Despite the closely muffled cloak, 'twas thou.
