Poems (Chitwood)/Lines to — — —
LINES TO
Not a throb disturbs my bosom, not a breath of passion's flame
Glows upon my spirit's embers, at the mention of thy name;
My heart is like a wild bird—unfettered, glad, and free,
And not a chord within my breast now vibrates unto thee.
Glows upon my spirit's embers, at the mention of thy name;
My heart is like a wild bird—unfettered, glad, and free,
And not a chord within my breast now vibrates unto thee.
Once thy cherished name was to me like the dew unto the flower,
And thy presence was the sunlight of life's most cheerless hour;
My heart was e'er turned toward thee like the needle to the pole;
Thy words were then the music—the charm that bound my soul.
And thy presence was the sunlight of life's most cheerless hour;
My heart was e'er turned toward thee like the needle to the pole;
Thy words were then the music—the charm that bound my soul.
Oh! often did I listen to thy fond impassioned words,
They fell in untold sweetness upon my spirit's chords,
They woke the slumbering feelings that powerless lay there,
And gave to life its brightness—they made my pathway fair.
They fell in untold sweetness upon my spirit's chords,
They woke the slumbering feelings that powerless lay there,
And gave to life its brightness—they made my pathway fair.
But Time, the mightiest conqueror along life's broken range,
Upon our hearts relentless has cast the veil of change;
I little thought his power could do for us what it has done;
Our paths of life are parted now, those paths which long were one.
Upon our hearts relentless has cast the veil of change;
I little thought his power could do for us what it has done;
Our paths of life are parted now, those paths which long were one.
Years have gone and brought their changes—thy spell for aye is o'er,
Thou rulest with a tyrant's sway my captive heart no more;
That heart which once was fettered in chains of love for thee,
Has cast those chains forever off, and now is wildly free.
Thou rulest with a tyrant's sway my captive heart no more;
That heart which once was fettered in chains of love for thee,
Has cast those chains forever off, and now is wildly free.
Yet I sometimes muse upon thee, I call thy face to sight,
I ponder o'er thy features, thy polished brow of light,
Thine eyes that beamed with pleasure, or flashed with passion's fire,
And blessèd thoughts of other days flash up from memory's lyre.
I ponder o'er thy features, thy polished brow of light,
Thine eyes that beamed with pleasure, or flashed with passion's fire,
And blessèd thoughts of other days flash up from memory's lyre.
Then for awhile thou rulest this captive throbbing heart,
But I break the veil through which I look, and see thee as thou art;
And without a throb of sorrow, a feeling of regret,
I say 'tis well we're parted—'tis well we could forget.
But I break the veil through which I look, and see thee as thou art;
And without a throb of sorrow, a feeling of regret,
I say 'tis well we're parted—'tis well we could forget.
Forget! ah, withered, faded, is love's own blooming wreath,
Each fragrant, glowing blossom has closed its leaves in death;
No fragrance round those folded leaves in balmy odors clings,
Save some sweet breath which, now and then, the spell of memory brings.
Each fragrant, glowing blossom has closed its leaves in death;
No fragrance round those folded leaves in balmy odors clings,
Save some sweet breath which, now and then, the spell of memory brings.
Ah, yes, my love is over, and till this life shall end,
I will think of thee with coldness, and give thee name of friend;
And whisper to my careless heart, unmingled with regret,
'Tis well our paths were parted, 'tis well we could forget.
I will think of thee with coldness, and give thee name of friend;
And whisper to my careless heart, unmingled with regret,
'Tis well our paths were parted, 'tis well we could forget.