Poems (Chitwood)/Zuline to Rodolph
ZULINE TO RODOLPH."I DEFY THEE TO FORGET ME."
Go, go, thy power is over, Unclasp affection's chain,The glad world is before thee, Go to that world again.I scorn thee for thy falsehood, I scorn thee for thy pride;I scorn thee from my inmost heart— Here let our paths divide.But ere we now are parted, One thought I'll breathe to thee:I defy thee to forget me, Wherever thou may'st be.
Go thou and burn my letters, They're graven on thy heart—Cast to the waves the locket, My face will not depart;Burn on the ruddy embers, The tress of sunny hair;Take my ring from off thy finger, Its ghost will yet be there:A tie there is that binds us, A tie that none may free—I defy thee to forget me, Wherever thou may'st be.
Stop not, in mercy stop not, A single word to speak;Stop not to note the ashes, Dead hope upon my cheek;Stop not with dark eyes flashing, And red lips curled with scorn;From no delusive fancy The prophecy is born—It will come to thee in mockery, When most thou seemest free—I defy thee to forget me, Wherever thou may'st be.
Thou wilt go and whisper softly To many a blushing cheek—The very vows you utter, To me you used to speak;Thou wilt kneel in the white moonlight, With those sweet tones of thineAnd give unto another The faith that once was mine:But conscience will reprove thee, And thought will cling to thee—I defy thee to forget me, Wherever thou may'st be.
Thou wilt sit beneath the willows, Beside the singing stream,Where the golden-hearted lilies Droop softly in a dream;Thou wilt start at every rustle, With thrill, half hope, halt fear,As if above the ripples My coming step to hear;Thou wilt strive to think of others, And only think of me—Thou can'st not e'er forget me, Wherever thou may'st be.
Go, go, I could not love thee, I could not trust thee nowAt the dark shrine of falsehood Once is enough to bow.I scorn thee as I sec thee, And know thy base untruth;My lip hath lost its gladness, My very heart its youth;And thou, oh thou, dost tremble At the sorrow thou hast madeThou wouldst forget that wild, deep love Thy falsehood hath betrayed.
I will hide the poisoned arrow, Within my heart away;None but thou shalt know its bleeding, Its wasting, day by day—And none may know my tortures, And none may know my pride;And none the bitter moment, When Love in anguish died.And none the ghost that keepeth A silent pace with thee,And whispers of thy falsehood, Wherever thou may'st be.