"SIC TRANSIT."
19
I sat and listened silently, As though I never heard,While you were pleading earnestly For just one little word.I felt the blood my forehead tinge, And mantle in my cheek;You must have seen I loved you, John, Although I could not speak.
You pulled to pieces as you talked A rose that I had worn,And the lace upon my handkerchief I know was sadly torn.You took my hand in yours, John, And pressed it with a sigh;I raised my head an instant then, And met your deep blue eye.
That glance—what may one look reveal, Of passion or regret—I see it still, and know that you Can never quite forget.Ah, well, that rosy-tinted hour Passed o'er us like a dream;Our lives are never half so bright, As 1n our youth they seem.
