Poems (Hooper)/Wasted Love

by Lucy Hamilton Hooper

WASTED LOVE.

The woman that I loved goes by
With glowing cheek and gleaming eye;
 Her brow by grief or care uncross'd,
She knew not love, nor knows remorse;
The while I watch beside a corse,
 The love that I have lost.

Not e'en by Friendship's fondest word
May this cold dust be ever stirred.
 Away! my path must not be crossed.
Where now with weary step I tread,
Keeping my watch beside my dead,
 The love that I have lost.

And could ye, friends, a moment peer
Beneath the pall that hides this bier,
 What would ye see who loved me most?
Naught save my trust in womanhood,
My faith in all that's pure and good—
 The love that I have lost.

And here some letters,—half a score,—
A portrait, mine once, mine no more;
 For deeper lines my brow have crossed;
A lock of hair,—but mine to-day
To match its jet is all too gray—
 O love that I have lost!

And here, from out a letter's fold,
There drops a ring of rayless gold,
 By quaintly graven letters cross'd:
"Pensez à moi," the legend shines.
You could not guard, O mocking lines!
 The love that I have lost.

O serpent soul and heart of stone!
Think not for thee I make my moan,
 Thou, cold and blighting as the frost:
I mourn the faith, I mourn the trust,
That 'neath thy false breath shrank to dust—
 The love that I have lost.

In losing thee I have been blest:
What were my lot had I possessed
 The wealth to pay thy soul's full cost?
The mask had fallen soon or late;
Nay, better far than such a fate,
 To lose as I have lost.

But come not here, O friends, to raise,
With kindly words and well-meant phrase,
 The mocking Past's triumphant ghost!
Nay, deeper than the soundless sea
I would the sepulcher might be
 Of the love that I have lost.