Poems (Edwards)/The Broken Heart
For works with similar titles, see The Broken Heart.
THE BROKEN HEART.
There's an hour when the heart like a delicate vine,
Encircles the nearest and tenderest things,
And fondly and firmly through sunshine and storm,
Around its loved shelter tenaciously clings;
But, Oh! when the tendrils that bound it are crushed,
When the tempest has severed the delicate chain,
It droopeth away from the spot it had loved,
And falls to the earth, ne'er to flourish again.
Encircles the nearest and tenderest things,
And fondly and firmly through sunshine and storm,
Around its loved shelter tenaciously clings;
But, Oh! when the tendrils that bound it are crushed,
When the tempest has severed the delicate chain,
It droopeth away from the spot it had loved,
And falls to the earth, ne'er to flourish again.
Thus, the heart that is broken by cruel distrust,
Shrinks back from the place where its tendrils once grew,
And droops like a floweret, when wholly bereft
Of the light of the sun, and the strength of the dew;
The smile may seem joyous, the eye may be bright,
And the brow wear no trace of a lingering care,
But the All-seeing Eye that looks down on the heart,
Knows well that a blight and a shadow are there.
Shrinks back from the place where its tendrils once grew,
And droops like a floweret, when wholly bereft
Of the light of the sun, and the strength of the dew;
The smile may seem joyous, the eye may be bright,
And the brow wear no trace of a lingering care,
But the All-seeing Eye that looks down on the heart,
Knows well that a blight and a shadow are there.